


Okay, fine, maybe a little.

by Nine_3quarters



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Attempt at Humor, Changing POV, Character Development, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Happy Ending, Hogwarts - first year to seventh year, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Marauders, Mcgonagall is the best, Mutual Pining eventually, Other, Pining, Remus Lupin's dimples, Sirius Black Being an Idiot, maybe more than a little angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-02-12 15:08:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 102,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21478375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nine_3quarters/pseuds/Nine_3quarters
Summary: The Marauders in their Hogwarts years — but if some slightly different choices had been made.Essentially (very, very essentially) Remus practices truly commendable restrain, Sirius denies everything and anything and everyone else just does what they do.Oh, and we love McGonagall.
Relationships: Bertram Aubrey/Remus Lupin, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Mary Macdonald/Peter Pettigrew, Regulus Black/Severus Snape, Remus Lupin & Lily Evans Potter, Remus Lupin & Narcissa Black Malfoy, Remus Lupin & Severus Snape, Sirius Black & Narcissa Black Malfoy, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter, Sirius Black/Marlene McKinnon, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 167
Kudos: 180
Collections: Made Me Cry





	1. The Beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, we'll see where this goes.

"Did you remember to pack your socks?"

It took all the energy in Remus’s body to suppress an eye roll. This was the twenty seventh time his mother had asked him about his socks. He glanced over at his dad (whose coughs sounded suspiciously like poorly quelled laughter) and directed all his self control towards withholding a long sigh—howsoever gratifying it promised to be.

Remus took in his mum’s poorly contained anxiety. Even with worry lines etched deeply on her forehead and a rather ghastly pallor to her skin, she was beautiful. A strong wave of affection and sadness hit Remus in the core of his chest. He’d miss her unbearably at Hogwarts.

"Remus, love, have you remembered to pack your bloody socks?" she repeated, in a more exasperated fashion.

He’d miss her unbearably at Hogwarts—granted, of course, that he managed to actually make it to Hogwarts. Remus wondered idly if it was possible to actually die of irritation.

"You know mum, I think I might’ve lost them sometime after you last asked."

Everyone in the Lupin family was vividly aware that the last time Hope Lupin had asked her son about his socks had been five minutes ago.

Hope narrowed her eyes dangerously. _ Thank Merlin she's a Muggle, _Remus thought. As it was, her glares did little other than mildly amuse both his dad and himself. 

She sniffed and pinched Remus’s cheeks lightly. As she stared at Remus’s face with her large, honey-brown eyes, she began to tear up. 

_ Shite, _ Remus thought, even as he was assailed by tears himself. He was weak to his mother’s tears. For a moment they stood like this—eye to eye and hands to cheeks—as both individuals did their very best to repress their obvious emotions. 

Lyall Lupin rolled his eyes and enveloped his wife and son in a fond hug.

Feeling warm, safe and very loved, Remus’s state was exacerbated. It was understandable that his mum was upset. Remus was her only child and he had never been away from home. All of a sudden he was on his way to one of the most renowned boarding schools in the world, to be taught under one of the most powerful wizards of the common era. 

Remus thought back to his first encounter with Dumbledore. His dad had put wards upon wards over the cottage when they’d seen the tall, thin silhouette outside their window. The old man—to whom belonged the aforementioned silhouette—had looked a bit barmy. Remus had liked him instantly.

In about fifteen minutes—whilst his parents were upstairs in their room and Remus was downstairs, on the living room floor—the tall old man had broken through all the layers of his dad’s magic with a few simple flicks of his wand.

When he faced Remus, his blue eyes twinkled. "Hullo Remus Lupin. My name is Albus Dumbledore, it’s a pleasure to be of acquaintance."

Remus blinked. "You’re _ the _Albu— oh sorry, uh yeah, hi, it—it’s nice to meet you."

Dumbledore’s eyes continued to twinkle, "Would you like to play gobstones?"

Remus blinked again. He supposed he did.

Fast forward several minutes (Dumbledore had turned out to be a rather formidable opponent), and they’d been found by his unimpressed parents. A short conversation (which had involved hysterical shouting, courtesy of his parents, and toffee, courtesy of Dumbledore) had ensued. It was decided that Remus was to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Lyall Lupin had cried of happiness that day. Neither him nor Remus’s mother had held much hope of their son receiving an invitation to Hogwarts—given, of course, that Remus was a lycanthrope.

The familiar guilt and self-deprecation did wonders to sober Remus’s sentimentality. It would do his parents good to get some rest away from him, he was an absolute nightmare come the full moon. They deserved much more than dedicating their entire lives to a Monster.

This was the beginning of his independence. _ The beginning of your solitude, _supplied the very unhelpful part of his brain. From now onwards he was his own problem. With physical distance between them, he could give his parents the semblance of a normal child.

Remus’s thoughts were interrupted when his mum pinched his cheeks, hard. She was glaring at him again.

Remus swallowed yet another sigh. She was way too perceptive.

"Remus John Lupin don’t you dare think such daft things."

_ There’s no way this woman’s a Muggle, _Remus thought—not for the first time.

His dad was considerably less impressed. "Didn’t know Muggles were capable of legilimency."

Hope Lupin gave her husband a sardonic look. "Shut up Lyall, it’s a mother’s intuition."

"D’you reckon if I transfigured myself a womb I’d have any chance of becoming a practicing legilimens? Imagine how dashing I’d be as a pregnant man,"

Hope closed her eyes. For a second Remus feared she would do something to publicly embarrass them all, right here, in the middle of platform nine and three quarters.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the man I chose to marry," she sighed, eventually.

Remus greatly appreciated her restrain. 

Lyall grinned and waggled his eyebrows, "Hold the applause."

"You’re cute Lyall, if only it was possible to transfigure yourself a brain."

Remus couldn’t quite help the soft laugh that escaped his lips. His mum winked at him and smiled—displaying her winning dimples. Her warm hands cupped his face gently and she kissed him, once, lightly, on his left eyebrow—where there existed a thin jagged scar—one of many which plagued his face.

"Take care of yourself, love," she whispered as she hugged him, her chin resting on his head, "I love you, Remus." 

Tears once again sprung in the corners of his eyes. When he didn’t reply she repeated herself.

"I love you so much Remus, you have to promise me that you’ll take care of yourself,"

He promised. 

"You also have to promise me that you’ll owl."

He promised.

Hope stared at him for a while, fussing with his hair.

"You did remember to pack your socks, right?"

_Bloody hell._ Time to board the train.

Lyall laughed at his son's expression and hugged him, kissing him on the cheek—where there lay yet another scar.

Having said his goodbyes, Remus boarded the Hogwarts Express. As the train began to move, he turned to look out the door, scanning the crowds to find his parents. Having located his mother’s light brown head, and his father’s blonde one, he forced a smile and waved his goodbyes once again.

His parents smiled back, though Remus suspected their smiles were as genuine as his own—that is to say, not genuine at all. How would he manage without them? Just the thought exhausted Remus down to his very bones. He had not yet fully recovered from the last full moon a few nights ago.

As the train moved into the distance, Remus saw his mother’s face crumble, and felt his own heart break in response. He refused to move until his parents were little more than specks in the distance.

Then, he closed his eyes, took a shaky breath and turned around. Time to find a carriage and make some friends. Remus frantically went over his mum’s ‘charming strategy’: flash the dimples first, think second. Ok, he could do this. 

Through the window King’s Cross gave way to buildings and foliage. _ Flash the dimples, _ Remus took the first step towards the rest of his life. _ Flash the dimples, Flash the dimpl—_

* * *

Sirius couldn’t breathe. He was going to die. This was The End. In capitals. 

He would be asphyxiated on the Hogwarts Express. All the pretty girls, as well as all the pretty guys of Hogwarts would forever sing, mournfully, of his untimely demise. 

_'He was so young,' _they would wail, _'__and so beautiful,' _ they would cry_. _And what would be the cause of his death?

James Potter. 

Well, to be exact, James Potter’s wicked humour. 

(Sirius didn’t think the specifics of the tragedy would be of much interest to the pretty girls and guys).

Merlin, this guy was an absolute riot. Sirius was in physical pain.

"...And then his kneazle turned ‘round and shat all over our main dining hall. There was glitter EVERYWHERE, bloody hell…"

Only half an hour into the train ride and Sirius had found the platonic love of his life.

James grinned at him, his white teeth a stark contrast to his deeply tanned skin. _ Yup, I’m never going back. See ya, Walby. _

Who’d have thought such a lovely, wicked thing could’ve come from the loins of old Fleamont himself. Sirius silently thanked the migration wave of the late 1400’s—_bless Arjun Potter and his desire to expand his enchanted silk business beyond the borders of Bharat. _

A knock on the carriage door startled Sirius from his thoughts. Dare he hope for another platonic love?

"Yeah?" said James.

Sirius never quite understood how he managed to absorb as much information as he did in the following moment, as the door opened.

In the doorway stood a girl with hair that looked like burnt copper. She was absolutely gorgeous. A quick glance behind her displayed a pale boy with limp black hair. Disregarding his pathetic posture, he was rather attractive as well. Having appreciated their faces, Sirius looked back towards James.

_ Oh, Merlin’s balls. _

James Potter, the platonic love of his life, looked like he’d been hit in the head with a bludger.

_ Merlin’s sagging balls. _

"Do you guys mind if we sit here? The other compartments are full," said the gorgeous redhead.

The sullen boy behind her remained silent. Sirius noticed that his eyes would, every so often, flicker back to the redhead. It seemed unconscious, as if he couldn’t quite help it. The look in his gaze was unnervingly similar to the look James had.

_ Merlin’s unwashed, sagging ball-sack. _

For an excruciatingly painful second everyone was silent. Fearing for the future happiness of his platonic love, Sirius flashed an easy smile. "Come in, then,"

James, bless him, blushed like one of Circe’s poor sailors. The boy behind the redhead scowled. The beauty herself beamed. 

Sirius, for some sudden and inexplicable reason, was thoroughly amused.

"I’m Lily, and this is Severus. Sev, go on, introduce yourself," she nudged Severus with her elbow and inclined her head towards Sirius and James.

Severus mumbled an incoherent something that Sirius assumed to be a greeting of some sort—it sounded much like a dialect of Troll.

"Hallo Lily, hallo Severus—I’m Sirius—yes, I’m serious my name is Sirius, haha yeah my name is very amusing okay moving on—and this," Sirius paused, for effect, "is James."

James displayed a saucy smile. The git looked unbearably awkward. Grinning, Sirius focused his attention back on Lily and Severus.

Looking more carefully, Severus’s mannerisms reminded Sirius of the house elves back at Grimmauld Place—the way they acted just before Walby released her wrath. It was disconcerting, Sirius wasn’t much used to kids who acted in this manner. Adults, perhaps—some of Oreo’s man-slaves were the epitome of pathetic itself.

Lily gave Severus a look. He mumbled in response and gave her a look back. Lily laughed.

_ Merlin’s sweaty, wrinkled, sagging and unwashed ball-sack. _

James’s eye began to twitch. Lily continued to laugh. Severus continued to display his prowess in Troll. Sirius remained helplessly entertained—until, that is, he caught James’s twitching eye and felt in his soul that his platonic love very much required his assistance.

So be it, Sirius would deliver.

Before Sirius could ingeniously deliver, however, the gorgeous redhead took a seat directly opposite him.

"This is all absolutely brilliant, Sev and I’ve grown up Muggle—that’s the name your lot use for non-magic folk, right?"

James smiled in a besotted way, Severus scowled.

"Ah yeah, yeah it is—so you’re a Mud—" James began to cough, in a loud and obnoxious manner. Sirius remembered something about derogatory terms, _"—M__uggle_-born? D’you know much about Hogwarts?" Sirius asked.

"Oh, you know, just stuff that I’ve read in books..."

_Hmmm_, Sirius could work with this.

"Ok, pop quiz, name the four founders."

"Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin and Gordon Gryffindor."

The corners of Severus’s mouth twitched. It was almost charming. "It’s _ Godric _ Gryffindor, Lils,"

"Ah yeah, Gormain Gryffindor."

Severus laughed. Having recovered from his fake coughing fit, James glared.

(Sirius sneezed. "Bless me," he whispered, wary, as all amused spectators are, of breaking the delicate atmosphere in which he had found himself.)

James turned to Lily. He looked awfully betrayed—which was interesting, given that he was still blushing.

"You can’t seriously not remember the name of the best founder," he said.

Severus frowned, "It was a joke. Besides, Salazar Slytherin’s the best founder, and Slytherin’s the best house."

Sirius suppressed a shiver. Thoughts of Walby and Oreo flashed through his mind. Their expectations and their hard glares. Dark curses being flung, casually, on the house elves. The sound of Reg crying. The coldness of his bed when he’d been sent to his room, without dinner, and with a slapped cheek. Walburga loved nothing better than a good disciplinary lesson.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was full of Slytherin. _ Yeah, I’d rather eat a Hippogriff’s testicles, _thought Sirius, all of a sudden losing his cheery disposition.

"I’d rather eat a Hippogriff’s testicles than be sorted into Slytherin," said James.

(This was _ exactly _why he was Sirius’s platonic soul-mate.)

Severus flushed. "Only an imbecile would prefer Gryffindor to Slytherin—Gryffindor was the most reckless—"

James’s eyes flashed. "Slytherin was a bloody bigo—"

"—don’t think he possessed even _ one _fully functioning brain cel—"

"—tortured _ COUNTLE—" _

James’s anger was fuelling Sirius’s own.

"I’d rather be a reckless idiot than evil." Sirius said, hotly.

Severus turned the colour of a cherry. "Your ignorance just displays how much of a heathen everyone who sorts Gryffindor is."

What Severus had said, in that unpleasant, nasally voice, sounded uncomfortably similar to something Walburga would say. Consequently, and to his mind justifiably, Sirius saw red.

"Piss off, _ Snivellus."_ hissed James.

"Don’t talk to him that way," growled Lily.

Suffice to say, Snivellus and Lily left (read: _stormed dramatically out of)_ the carriage, leaving James and Sirius alone—seething and full of promise to be sorted Gryffindor.

* * *

Remus’s jaw dropped as he stepped foot into the Great Hall.

"Bloody hell," whispered Bertram.

"Bloody hell, indeed." Remus whispered back.

Scanning the giant hall, Remus caught Dumbledore’s eye. He smiled and waved. Dumbledore offered a wink back.

Remus looked back at Bertram, with whom he’d shared the train ride. _S__o this is what my first friend looks like. _

The ride had been pleasant enough. Bertram’s dirty blond hair and icy blue eyes reminded Remus of Ken—from Barbie and Ken. (Although Remus had a feeling that the comparison wouldn’t be much appreciated.)

"Aarondal, Yasmin." called the stern looking witch at the front of all the first years. The sorting had begun.

"HUFFLEPUFF."

"Aubrey, Bertram."

Bertram exchanged a quick smile with Remus and walked up to be sorted.

"RAVENCLAW."

Remus felt his palms begin to sweat—he’d read somewhere that the sorting hat could see into the wearer’s mind. It would be able to tell that he was a lycanthrope. What if it refused to put him in any house at all? Could it do that? Could that happen? _ Shitey shite. _

"Black, Sirius."

There was a subtle decrease in conversation around the hall as the next kid—_Sirius Black—_went up. The kid walking towards the dais certainly looked like a member of The Prudish and Most Bigoted House of Black. He walked with a casual grace, his ebony black hair ruffling in the wind. 

_ Wait, ruffling in the _ _ wind? _Remus blinked. He glanced around the sheltered _(sheltered) _great hall. Then he stared at Black’s indisputably ruffling hair. _ What on earth—where is that wind coming from? _

Remus was Very Perplexed. In capitals.

"GRYFFINDOR."

The subtle hush, suddenly, became very noticeable indeed. A few steps away from Remus, a boy with messy black hair cheered loudly into the silence. Black smirked at the Slytherin table as he got up and swaggered to the Gryffindor one. As soon as he got there, it was like a spell was broken. The entirety of Gryffindor broke out in loud cheers.

The sorting continued. 

A very pretty redheaded witch was the second person to be sorted Gryffindor. The smile she directed towards her quiet, black-haired friend seemed almost apologetic to Remus.

"Lupin, Remus."

Remus’s heart skipped a beat. Or two. Actually, more like five. 

He forced himself to walk as normally as he could towards the hat, catching Dumbledore’s irritatingly twinkling eyes on the way. He forced a neutral face the entire time, even as the stern-faced witch—_Professor McGonagall?—_placed the hat on his head.

"Hmmm... plenty of self-doubt," a small voice whispered in Remus’s ear.

Remus felt a bit ill.

"Plenty of fear as well… it’s all here, you’re scared of yourself—you think yourself a monster."

Remus felt quite considerably ill.

"...How interesting. Despite the fear, you fight your own demons every day—ah yes, to continue living, to continue smiling, and to continue hoping despite your fears, how could you be anything other than GRYFFINDOR."

Cheers erupted from the Gryffindor table.

_ Oh thank Merlin and Morgana _thought Remus, as he heaved a quiet sigh and made his way towards the Gryffindor table. He smiled as he got closer and took his seat next to the redheaded witch, opposite Black.

The sorting continued. There was a notable hatstall which got sorted Gryffindor. This was followed by the messy haired boy—_Potter? _

When Potter was sorted Gryffindor, Black let loose a loud and indecent whistle. Remus had to stifle a laugh at Professor McGonagall’s glare.

"Well, well, well, who do we have here?" Potter said, as he took his seat next to Black. The pretty redheaded witch, to whom Potter’s commentary was directed, promptly scowled in response.

"Why James, it’s Lily Evans." supplied Black, in a tone of mock reverence.

Evans’s jaw clenched with restrain.

"Why Evans—can I call you Lily? Why, Lily, darling—"

"Don’t call me that." Evans said, in a tone that sent chills down Remus’s spine. She was making direct eye contact with James. Her eyes were the most startling shade of green—like emeralds, but not quite. _ She really is beautiful, _Remus thought.

Potter turned a very interesting shade of red. Remus winced internally. 

"Awe, don’t be like that Evans, Jamesie here and I were just surprised that you were sorted into our esteemed _ Godfrey _ Gryffindor’s house." Sirius paused to look around, with very obvious fake concern on his face. "Where’s Snivellus?"

"Sirius, sweetie—look. He’s over there, at Slytherin, crying into his goblet. Awwee, widdle Snivellus, look at him wiping his nose into his hair."

Remus could tell that there was a story behind this interaction. Remus could also tell that if something wasn’t done, in say, the next thirty seconds, Evans was going to rip all the hair off Potter and Black’s heads. Remus looked at the two, unsuspecting morons whose lives he now felt obligated to save.

"Have you guys heard the rumours that Salazar Slytherin was in love with Helga Hufflepuff?"

Evans’s gorgeous green eyes still held the promise of homicide. Remus spoke a little louder.

"You know, I’ve always preferred to believe the stories about Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin."

That got their attention. Potter looked at Remus, tilting his head as he spoke, "Are you talking about how they were friends before they were enemies?"

Evans’s eyes widened, "They were friends?"

Potter blushed harder (if that was even possible), and seemed to lose the faculties to speak.

Remus smiled, dimples on full display, and addressed Evans, "It’s an established fact that they were friends, but I’m talking about the stories of them being lovers,"

Potter paled. Black looked scandalised.

"Why would Gryffindor ever go for a twat like Slytherin?" Potter asked.

"Amortentia, there’s no other way." murmured Black.

Some of the fire which had left Evans’s eyes returned. _ Shite. _

"Dunno, the stuff I’ve read said that for the longest while it was Gryffindor single-sidedly pursuing Slytherin."

"Accidental Amortentia, then," said Black.

Evans was like a ticking bomb. Remus suppressed a groan and gave both Black and Potter a significant look, "I dunno, both of them still fought and all—I don’t think people under the effects of Amortentia have the ability to get angry with the person they’re meant to be in love with."

Black went back to looking thoroughly scandalised.

For a second, no one spoke. Remus felt very much like attempting to drown himself in his pumpkin juice.

"...They’re like Iago and Othello." whispered Evans.

Remus was suddenly much more excited to be having this conversation. "That’s _ exactly _what I thought when I first read about them—can you imagine, crafty Slytherin and chivalrous Gryffindor head over heels for one another."

Evans grinned at Remus. "I’m Lily."

Remus grinned back, "I’m Remus, nice to meet you."

"Imagine how pissed off all the pure bloods around Slytherin would’ve been—Gryffindor being half-blood and all," said Black, all of a sudden appearing extremely amused.

Potter, on the other hand, looked confused, "I mean, I get why Slytherin would’ve liked Gryffindor," Lily scoffed, "but why would _ Gryffindor _like him back?"

Deciding that she was done suffering fools, Lily turned to speak to the girl next to her. Remus couldn’t help his soft sigh of relief.

Potter just continued to look confused.

"Just let it go, you wanker—Slytherin and Gryffindor were both sexy pieces of shite who couldn’t be arsed about blood purity and decided to actually _ enjoy _ being sexy pieces of shite." Black said, as he clapped Potter on the shoulder.

"Well, if you put it that way."

Remus laughed. "I’m Remus."

Black and Potter smiled back, "I’m Sirius, and this self-destructive—"

"I think you mean gorgeous."

"—twit is James."

The hatstall sitting next to Remus spoke up "I—I’m Peter."

Remus turned and smiled "I’m Remus, and these gorgeous twits—"

"That’s more like it."

"—are James and Sirius."

Peter offered an awkward grimace in response. 

Looking around, Remus had a feeling that something mildly monumental had just occurred.


	2. Progress, progress...

"REMUS." James bellowed.

"REMUS, MY LOVE, MY SAVIOUR, GET UP." Sirius shouted.

"Remus, please, I haven’t done the transfigurations homework," Peter whimpered.

"REMUS GET THE FUCK UP." James and Sirius jumped on top of Remus’s body.

Sirius tore the covers off of Remus—leaving him exposed to the unbearable early November weather. 

Remus wrinkled his nose and curled up into a small ball.

"REMUS." James took hold of Remus’s legs and pulled him off the bed.

With his eyes still closed, Remus began to crawl back.

"REMUS, YOU ANEMIC SHITE, GET UP." James sat on top of Remus’s back in order to restrain him.

Conceding defeat but refusing to lose, Remus stopped moving and pulled at James until he was lying directly on top of him. Sirius realised, belatedly, that James was being used as a human blanket.

"Now that’s what I call dedication," James muttered, in a tone that conveyed both respect and annoyance.

"Hey Pete, d’you want some of these chocolate frogs?"

Remus’s eyes flew open. "Touch my food, and be prepared for your inevitable demise," he said, in a croaky, sleep drunk voice.

Refusing to break eye contact Sirius opened Remus’s box of chocolate frogs and popped one in his mouth.

"James, I’m giving you five seconds to get off me."

Sirius popped another chocolate frog into his mouth,

"Three." 

"Hmmm…." Sirius closed his eyes, "Oh yeah….. hmmmmm….."

**"James."**

A chill went down Sirius’s spine. Pete began to shiver. James, the bloody traitor, jumped off of Remus and retreated to the safety of his own bed. Like the courageous lion that he is, Sirius began to flee.

"JAMES YOU BLOODY TRAITOR."

"WHO TOLD YOU TO EAT HIS FOOD, YOU KNOB."

_ Oh sweet Merlin abo— _ all the air was knocked out of Sirius’s lungs as he was thrown to the floor, underneath Remus.

**"Sirius."**

Sirius was a big boy now. Sirius would not cry.

**"What did I say about eating my food."**

Sirius would maybe sweat from his eyes a little bit. 

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are—_ow_—your hair looks like—uh—like—OW, _OW,_ I’M TRYING OK—_FUCK_—JAMES WHAT DOES REMUS’S HAIR LOOK LIKE,"

"Caramel?"

"YEAH, YEAH, CARAMEL—OH MERLIN—REMUS, PLEASE FORGIVE THIS WORM FOR HE HAS SINNED—"

**"You’ll buy me a box for every frog that you ate"**

"YES—MERLIN ABOVE I’LL BUY YOU THE WHOLE FACTOR— oh, thank Circe,"

Sirius sat on the floor, breathing hard and clutching his arm. For such a weak looking person, Remus hid a frightening amount of strength.

The aforementioned individual was sitting on the floor a few steps away from Sirius, rubbing at his eyes and wearing pyjamas that were several sizes too big for him. His light brown hair looked as awful as James’s did on a good day. 

"Remus." James said, gently.

Remus blinked his large, honey-brown eyes. "What." he mumbled.

"Let us copy your transfiguration essay."

Remus frowned. It made him look unfairly adorable. "It’s Wednesday today."

"Yeah, so?" said Sirius.

"We don’t have transfigurations today."

Sirius and James turned to glare at Peter. Pete shrank further into his covers. 

"We have potions first thing."

_"Fuck. _ What did Slughorn want us to do?" asked James.

"Read up about the Forgetfulness Potion. We’re brewing it in class today."

Sirius sighed a breath of relief. "That’s fine then, you’ll just show us what to do in class, yeah?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "I promised Lily I’d go with her and Severus."

**Betrayal**. The ultimate betrayal.

"You chose _ Snivellus _over us?!" asked James, incredulous.

Remus sighed. Sirius noticed his under-eyes were especially dark today—as they always were the morning he returned from visiting his mum.

"Look, if I let you copy my transfiguration essay, and explain what you need to know for Potions today, will you leave him alone?"

Sirius thought this was unfair. "He asks for it."

Remus gave Sirius the Look of Disappointment.

James sniffed.

Remus sighed again. (And people said _ Sirius _was the dramatic one!)

"He’s not even nice to you! I’ve seen him, all he does is make eyes at Evans and ignore your existence," Sirius continued.

Remus ran his hands through his hair, "Still."

Why was Remus so obsessed with Snivellus and his stupid limp hair, and his stupid pathetic posture, and his stupid nasally voice. Sirius had fantastic hair, his posture was impeccable (courtesy, unfortunately, of Walby) and the timbre of his voice allegedly made angels weep (at least according to some anonymous love letter he’d gotten).

So why was Remus always taking Snivellus’s side? And not just Snivellus, it was like Remus had a hidden agenda to always take the side of everyone who wasn’t Sirius.

"Great, Sirius is sulking. Look what you’ve done Remus." James groaned.

Remus groaned back, "You can’t be Sirius."

James and Peter laughed. 

Sirius pouted. "Funny. You’re funny." 

"Awe come on, Sirius," Remus cajoled, sliding across the floor and putting his head on Sirius’s folded lap.

Sirius wasn’t easy. He wasn’t. He refused to be placated.

Remus smiled up at Sirius, flashing those stupid dimples.

Okay, maybe Sirius was a little easy.

"Uh, guys?" said Peter.

"Shut up Peter, you’re ruining their moment,"

Remus laughed and raised his head, "What is it, Pete?"

Sirius glared at the floor. Stupid Peter and his stupid distractions and stupid kind Remus and his stupid freckles and stupid dimples and stupid scars and— 

James hit Sirius on the back of his head. "Stop sulking." he whispered.

Stupid James.

"Guys, uh, it’s 8:59."

_ Oh fuck. _

It was remarkable, really, that they all arrived <strike> fully</strike> mostly dressed to Potions only seven minutes late.

* * *

"What’s the next step, Sev?"

"Add two sprigs of Valerian to the mixture."

"Remus, pass the Valerian."

_ Oh precious peace, how deeply I have missed you. _Remus sighed in contentment.

He glanced to the back of the potions classroom, where James and Sirius had somehow managed to spill crushed mistletoe on Peter’s head. Then, he glanced back to his own workstation, where Lily had begun to stir the potion.

"Three stirs clockwise, Lils."

Remus felt like a middle aged woman on a spa retreat. Remus, _ very proudly, _ felt like a middle aged woman on a spa retreat. A _ peaceful _ spa retreat. 

"I think Pettigrew’s wet his pants," commented Lily, offhandedly.

"My heart weeps," replied Remus, impassive.

Lily laughed, "If you keep smiling like that you’re going to make Black and Potter cry."

"My heart _weeps." _replied Remus, refusing to break eye contact.

Severus snorted. Startled, Remus turned to look at him. Was he hearing things? No, Lily looked surprised—Severus had laughed. Severus had laughed! And not at Remus's expense!

Remus grinned. "I’m softening him."

Lily smiled, "You’re softening him."

Severus’s face promptly lost all semblance of pleasure.

"Nice try, Sev." Lily said.

"I know you think I’m funny, it’s ok, I _ am _funny," Remus grinned.

Severus scowled, "Funny-looking, sure."

Remus’s grin widened. "You’re losing your touch, Severus Snape."

And he was. Remus thought back to the awkward boy he had met a few months back—with skin just a bit too pasty, and an expression just a bit too sour. 

James was cruel to Severus because Severus was Lily’s best friend. Sirius was cruel to Severus because Sirius loved James, and James was cruel to Severus. Peter was cruel to Severus because Peter wanted to fit in, and both James and Sirius were cruel to Severus.

So where did that leave Remus?_ In a very awkward position. _

He’d almost ignored it, like a coward, for fear that standing up for Severus would get him hated. It’d been impossible, though, when he’d noticed the bruises. 

Under the sleeve of his robe, Severus hid large, black bruises. Bruises which were cleverly obscured from view and which hurt to look at. Bruises which had just now begun to fade.

Remus wondered, sadly, how many bruises Severus carried in his heart. Those ones would take much longer to heal.

Severus Snape’s black eyes held a deep sadness. Just like Sirius’s. Just like Remus’s parents’.

They were all, each one of them, broken in their own way. What a cruel world, to have done this to them.

Once Remus had noticed, it’d been impossible to leave Severus alone. Remus’s ostracisation was a looming inevitable anyway. _ When _ it occurred didn’t much matter in the long run.

Or so Remus tried, desperately, to convince himself. Thankfully, he’d managed to convince his body. Now if only he could get his mind to leave him alone…

"Remuss!"

No, no, it was Peaceful Time right now.

"Rrrrreeeeemussssss!"

Nope.

"REEEEEEMMMMMUUUUUUUSUSUSUSUUSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!"

"Romelio, humour Sirius, please."

Remus closed his eyes and counted to ten in his mind. Lily pat him on the arm and Severus gave him a look of almost pity._ Huh, _ _ almost pity._ Remus would take what he could get.

"Romelio."

"I’m on it, Professor Slughorn," Remus sighed, wondering if it was worth pointing out that his name was not, in fact, Romelio.

Making his way to the back of the classroom Remus tried very hard to hide his irritation. "Yes, Sirius. What do you want."

Sirius pouted, looking very much like a kicked dog. Remus refused to be placated.

"What were you talking to Snivellus about?"

It took all the patience in Remus’s body not to hex Sirius’s perfect face. "Don’t call him that."

"Just now. You were smiling. Why."

Remus made eye contact with James. More than two months spent almost exclusively in each other’s company had given them the very useful ability to converse without words. In minute facial expressions, the conversation which they had was as follows:

_ Remus: What’s the meaning of this._

_ James: Don’t look at me._

_ Remus: What is he on about._

_James: I wish I knew._

_ Remus: I’m going to kill him—_

_ James: Wait—_

_Remus: —and then I’m going to kill you._

_ James: Okay, I’ll get him to stop._

"What are you on about, you plonker," James asked.

Sirius commenced his Face of Betrayal.

Remus sniffed—the smell of berries had somehow enveloped the classroom.

Peter made a noise. "Uh, guys—our potion’s turned pink?"

Remus looked at the potion. It was, indeed, pink. He wondered, briefly, what he had done to deserve having to deal with this.

The smell of berries exacerbated.

"Awe shite, add some more mistletoe, add some more mistletoe—"

"Uh, Sirius, I really don’t thin—"

"—don’t bother crushing it! Just throw it in—"

"Wait, James, sto—"

James threw in the berries. Peter looked like he was about to pass out.

Remus had tried. He really had. He made eye contact with Lily and Severus across the classroom. On the bright-side, the look on Severus’s face had evolved from _ almost _pity to just plain old pity. Small victories.

The potion began to bubble precariously.

"Good-bye Lily, good-bye Severus—"

_"Snivellus _ gets a good-bye?! What about us?!?!"

"Shut up James—good-bye Olliver—"

Abruptly, the potion stopped bubbling and turned a clear orange. For a moment, everyone was quiet.

Sirius smiled smugly, "I told you—"

Remus’s instincts screamed—he pushed Sirius to the left, simultaneously grabbing James and yanking him backwards.

"Uh—"

_ Oh crap—_Peter was directly in front of the cauldron. All the hair on Remus’s body was on end—_there’s no time—_Remus jumped in front of Peter, using his body as a shield, just moments before the harmless looking orange potion exploded.

The pity on Severus’s face now looked profound.

* * *

"Come in, Black."

Sirius stepped foot into the head of Gryffindor’s office.

"You’re looking sharp today, Professor."

Professor McGonagall glanced at him from above her spectacles, "That was inappropriate, but thank you."

Sirius grinned.

"Do you know why you’ve been called in?" she asked, her stern tone at odds with her soft Scottish lilt.

"You missed me?"

Minnie, as Sirius had taken to calling her in his own head, pursed her lips. Sirius suspected she was trying to hide a laugh. She loved him, really.

"May I enquire as to why Lupin’s hair is now blue?"

"Freedom of expression?"

"Black."

"Awe, you’re no fun today Professor."

Minnie sighed, "May I enquire as to why Lupin refused to let Madam Pomfrey fix his blue hair?"

"Ah," Sirius donned a solemn expression "You see, Professor, Remus is secretly the sauciest child of us all."

Minnie raised an eyebrow.

"It’s true! The temper on that boy, my word."

"It has nothing to do with a certain mishap in Professor Slughorn’s class?"

"Nah, he’s just throwing a tantrum."

"Have you not wondered why he’s doing so?"

Sirius made a face. "He’s just a bit fed up with having to clean up after us, I think."

"As he rightfully should be, I’d imagine." Minnie said, giving Sirius a stern look.

Sirius shrugged. "I’ll buy him some chocolate, he’ll come around." 

Minnie sighed again.

"Awe, don’t sigh so, you’re ruining your pretty appearance,"

"That was highly inappropriate, Black."

Sirius noticed that Minnie was trying not to laugh again. He loved these weekly rendezvous.

For a while they sat in comfortable silence. Minnie drank her tea as Sirius took a biscuit from the can she kept on her desk.

"So, how have you been doing?" Sirius asked.

"I’d been doing quite well actually."

"Why past tense, Professor?"

"Well, there are these precocious first years in my house, and recently, one of them got their hair accidentally dyed a very unnatural colour." 

"Blue’s a natural colour!" 

Minnie gave Sirius a look.

"Pixies can have blue hair! So can trolls! Are you discriminating, Professor?"

Minnie sipped her tea. "I wonder how pleasantly Lupin would take to being compared to a troll."

Sirius wondered if he was very subtly being threatened. "My respect for you only grows as the days go by, Professor."

Another hidden laugh. Sirius smiled.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in, Potter."

James and his hair (for his hair deserved an introduction of its own) walked into the room.

"You’re looking smart today, Professor."

Minnie refilled her tea cup. "That was inappropriate, but thank you. Take a seat, Potter."

James grinned. Sirius really did love these weekly rendezvous.

"You’re both to—" began Minnie.

"Wait, wait, I just got here! That’s unfair, Professor! Sirius got to spend an entire twenty minutes alone with you!" James cried.

Minnie sighed, yet another time.

"Take a biscuit, James." Sirius offered. "You too, Professor—I recommend the chocolate ones."

Minnie shot Sirius a sardonic look. "Thank you, Black, for offering me my own biscuits."

"You’re very welcome Professor," Sirius replied.

"There’s only one chocolate biscuit left—d’you want it, Professor?" James asked.

Minnie closed her eyes. "Just take it, Potter."

"This is why you’re my favourite."

And thus continued their meeting. At least until Minnie ran out of both tea and patience.

"You’re both to turn up at the main entrance for detention today at 6:00 pm." she said.

"Will you be there?" asked James.

Minnie pursed her lips, "Yes."

"Awe that’s brill. It’s a date!" exclaimed Sirius.

"Get out of my room."

Invisible hands seemed to grab both James and Sirius by the scruff of their robes, depositing them in the hall in less than fifteen seconds. 

""She loves us."" they proclaimed, simultaneously. 

With James’s arm around his shoulders as they both made their merry way to the Gryffindor common room, Sirius wondered if the relationship he had with Minnie was similar to the relationship between a healthy mother and child.

"Hey, James?"

"Yeah?"

"Does Minnie act like a mum?"

"More like an older cousin, twice removed."

Sirius frowned. "What does your mum act like?" he asked.

James looked at Sirius.

"Well," James paused, "she dotes on me, because, well, who _ wouldn’t _dote on me. And she makes yummy food when I ask. Mostly she just drives me bonkers, but she hugs me when I’m down and she shouts at dad when his jokes go too far."

Horrified, Sirius noticed a warm pressure building in his throat.

"She just loves me like mad, I guess. Don’t tell anyone, but honestly, I love her like mad too—hey, Sirius, are you alright?"

Sirius willed his eyes dry. Because he was a young boy—and not, say, a highly trained yogi—he was largely unsuccessful. Denial, however, is a strong thing, and Sirius, despite everything, was one stubborn boy indeed.

"Uh, yeah, I’m fine."

James stopped walking.

"We don’t have to go back to the common room, if you don’t want to." he said, gently.

"I’m fine, James."

James hadn’t, even once, stopped looking at Sirius. The pressure had grown unbearable in Sirius’s throat.

Quietly, James hugged him. Sirius didn’t quite know what to do—it was the first time he’d been hugged after all. Mostly he just leaned into the warmth of James’s body. And if a few tears slipped out of his eyes, well, that was between him and James.

After he felt well enough, they continued on their course to the common room. Slipping inside, they made their way into the dormitory they shared with Remus and Peter. Sirius felt tired. James, being his platonic soul mate, understood this perfectly.

Inside, Remus was lying on his bed reading a book. His hair was as shockingly blue as it’d been at potions earlier today. Currently, he was giving Sirius & Co. the silent treatment.

The lump in Sirius’s throat returned. _ How odd. _

Remus glanced over to where James and Sirius stood. When he made eye contact with Sirius, he frowned, "Are you okay?"

The pressure behind Sirius’s eyes broke, and one after the other hot tears slid down his cheeks. In a matter of a moment, Remus was in front of him, hugging him. _ My second hug._

In that moment, the bathroom door opened and Peter walked out, "Remus, I wouldn’t use the toi— Sirius! What happened?!"

Sirius burrowed his face into Remus’s soft hair. He was getting snot and tears everywhere, and still Remus refused to end the hug.

"James, what happened?" Peter asked.

Sirius heard a soft shushing sound. For a while, Sirius’s entire world consisted solely of the feeling of a warm body and the subtle scent of berries.

After he’d calmed down, Sirius disentangled himself.

Remus looked up, directly, into Sirius’s eyes. "Did someone say something?"

Sirius shook his head.

"Did someone _ do _ something?"

Sirius shook his head.

"Who do I need to kill, Sirius?"

Sirius gave Remus a watery smile. Remus and James glanced at each other.

"What happened, Sirius?" asked Peter, in a mollified tone.

James glared at Peter.

Sirius was so sick of pretending he was alright. "My mother doesn’t love me."

Everyone, including Peter, was silent.

"The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black isn’t huge on the whole familial affection thing." Sirius continued.

He felt strangely calm. Like he’d been detached from himself. Vaguely, from a distance, he could register a terrible, terrible ache in his chest. Like a dementor was kissing him from the inside.

It was strange. To be loved, like other kids were loved, was an unfamiliar concept to Sirius. So why was he crying? It was rather ridiculous to mourn something he’d never had.

Except he guessed he _ had _ had it. In short, bright bursts. Always brilliant, but never enough. A soft caress, a quick hug. Never from his parents—heaven forbid they behave like humans. But from his relatives, sometimes—his older cousins, his aunts. From the house elves—from Thing, and Vastey and even Kreacher. Severe Kreacher, who loved to frown and chastise. Whom Sirius hated sometimes, almost as much as Walburga and Orion. But who would Apparate into his room, when he thought Sirius was asleep, and mutter a healing spell, gently, on a slapped and bruising cheek. Whom Sirius suspected was behind the plates of food which would appear, mysteriously, outside his door when he’d been sent to bed, stomach growling. Whom he’d seen stroke Reg’s head while he was crying.

It meant a lot, it did. Sirius was almost guilty that it didn’t mean enough.

"The thing with love," he said, blankly, "is that the more of it you have, the more of it you want."

Still, no one spoke.

"I want them to love me." Sirius whispered.

He was disgusted with how pathetic he seemed, it was doubtless that if either of his parents could see him now, they’d only draw further away from him.

"I don’t want to want them to love me." he continued, still whispering.

James looked like he was about to cry.

"It’s okay." Remus took Sirius’s hand in his. "I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it will be, I swear on all the stars above," he murmured. "And it’s okay to want them to love you, you’re allowed to do that."

Remus paused, looking with uncertainty at Sirius for a brief moment, "I know it doesn’t mean much right now, but I love you, Sirius."

The pressure in Sirius’s throat returned.

"Peter loves you. James is arse over tit for you."

Peter, who had gone a bit blotchy, pat Sirius on the arm. James managed a shaky smile, "It’s true."

Remus continued, "Your parents gave birth to you, but from what I’ve heard they haven’t ever acted like parents since." Remus took a breath. "I don’t believe that people are ever obligated to love each other. When someone loves someone else they make a conscious decision to lower their defences and bear their heart. I know it hurts you, I know it destroys you, and I wish I could tear the hair off their heads, but I don’t think your parents were obligated to love you."

Sirius knew this. He swallowed. James, in response, leaned against him.

"What they were obligated, and what they failed, spectacularly, to do, was to raise you. I’m not going to speak about their misgivings though, because every time I think about them, I feel like I’m going to throw up."

Sirius stared at the floor. "Why didn’t they decide to love me," he asked himself more than anyone else.

Remus looked pained. His hands on Sirius’s tightened minutely.

"I don’t know." he said, gently, "I don’t know." He ran his warm fingers over Sirius’s hand, "What I do know, what I know irrefutably, in the very core of my being, is that I decided to love you."

"I—I decided to love you too," said Peter,

"I decided, the very first time I saw you, that I was going to love you," said James, his hazel eyes looking, unwaveringly, at Sirius.

"Please don’t kiss me." Sirius joked, feebly.

"Only in your dreams, mate." James replied, smiling slightly.

Peter and Remus looked happy.

"I don’t know much," Peter began, cautiously, "but I know that people can be—horrible. I want to protect you from the horrible people, Sirius."

Any other time Sirius might have laughed, just then, though, he felt incredibly touched. Cautiously, he walked over to Peter and put his hands around him, pulling him close.

_ My third hug. _

Sirius, suddenly, felt much brighter. _ Pfffttt,_ Walby and Oreo were insignificant mosquitos in the grand epic of his life. He had found people who had chosen to love him. Like Reg had chosen to love him, like Kreacher had chosen, somewhere in his pruny heart, to love him also.

Sirius suddenly felt much uplifted. He glanced over at James, who grinned back, and then at Remus, who was looking at him, watchfully, silently.

_ Hmmm… he loves me, does he?_

Sirius suddenly felt much, _ much _uplifted. He smirked. Remus, all of a sudden, looked very tired indeed.

Swaggering over to Remus, Sirius tucked a strand of silk soft, blue hair behind Remus’s ear. Remus’s darkly lashed, honey-coloured eyes looked Very Perplexed. Sirius felt a soft flutter in his stomach. Before he could quite stop himself, he said:

"Blue suits you. You almost look nice. Not at my level, of course, but you could maybe surpass James."

Remus rolled his lovely eyes, stepping back from Sirius. Sirius felt an odd sense of loss.

James swivelled his head, "HEY, you vain knob, Myffanwy Xiang said I was the fittest in the year!"

Sirius wondered, belatedly, why it was so difficult to compliment Remus out loud.

"That’s only ‘cause Myffanwy Xiang’s blinder than Hagrid’s flobberworms—" he replied.

Remus sighed for a very, very long time.

"—AND, might I add, hasn’t had the added privilege of seeing me up close."

James snorted "Lucky her,"

Peter laughed, "Myffanwy Xiang asked Remus to go to the bathroom with her."

"What." Sirius said, intelligently.

"She thought he was a girl."

James looked delighted. "Myffanwy, you foxy fiend." 

Remus rubbed a hand across his face wearily. He began to make his way back to his bed.

Sirius glanced at James, and then Peter. Unanimously, they all ascended on Remus.

Remus refused to look at them, opening up his book—_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them._

Sirius remembered, in vague horror, that Newt Scamander was an absolute babe. Not that it mattered. In any way. Or shape. Or form.

Ok, mayb—

"Remus, love, have I told you about that box of chocolate eclairs my mum owled me?" asked James.

Remus wrinkled his nose. Sirius could almost see the mental fight he was having with himself.

"Awe, Remus, come on, I’m sorry your hair’s blue—" began Peter.

"It’s not about my stupid hair." scowled Remus.

James looked at Remus.

Remus scowled more darkly, "It’s only a little bit about my stupid hair."

Peter looked confused, which is to say, Peter looked as he always did. Sirius felt peace restored to his world.

"You guys have to stop treating Sev this way."

Everything in the world was horrible. 

"Sev?! _ Sev?! _ Remus! Nonono! I disapprove! You can’t be friends with Sniv—" began James.

"James, just stop. He’s a good guy," replied Remus.

It was Sirius’s turn to scowl. Stupid Snivellus, with his stupid quiet charm, and his stupid nerdy demeanour.

James looked betrayed to the max. Remus looked at Sirius, pleadingly. Sirius made a face back. No way was he supporting _Snivellus._

Remus turned to Peter. Being the absolute traitor that he is, Peter hesitated, then spoke up, "Uh, I mean, Sniv— sorry Remus—Snape, well, I feel kind of bad? Sometimes?"

Remus grinned—his stupid, stupid dimples making their stupid, stupid appearance.

James’s face mirrored Sirius’s own thoughts exactly.

Remus, the stupid and mildly intelligent hellion, changed tactics. He walked over to James, tilting his head and pouting his lips slightly. Then, he looked over at Sirius.

Everything in the world was golden brown honey. Until, at least, James threw a pillow, rather savagely, at Sirius’s face.

"SIRIUS—GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER! REMUS—I AM MILDLY IMPRESSED BUT ALSO TERRIFIED AND DEEPLY AFFRONTED!"

Remus scowled. "Just give him a chance, you insufferable wanker."

And so continued the next few hours. Vaguely, Sirius felt that he was forgetting something.

A knock sounded on their door. Remus huffed and crossed the room.

Sitting, imperiously, on the floor in front of their dorm room was a silver tabby cat.

Sirius felt fear for perhaps the first time in his entire life.

"Professor McGonagall." Remus frowned.

Minnie changed forms. Her face was a firestorm.

Sirius glanced, quickly, at James—in some far, far corner of his mind, he was almost amused at how pale James’s tea brown skin had gotten.

"Lupin, either accept Madame Pomfrey’s treatment or shave your hair off by tomorrow morning. Pettigrew, stop shivering right now." Minnie snapped.

Then, Minnie turned to face Sirius and James.

For the second time in his life, Sirius felt fear.

** _"_** **_**B**lack, Potter, follow me—"_ **


	3. Cissa, Marlene and some dude named Mastier.

On the cold floor of the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade, Remus awakened. His back hurt unbearably. Memories of his monster attacking itself resurfaced. Remus closed his eyes again—partially because of pain, but mostly because he was tired of being himself.

He imagined his parents—their easy smiles, their warm hugs. Remus felt unbearably sad that he didn’t deserve them. Briefly, he imagined what life could’ve been like if he was normal.

His parents and him could have permanently settled down somewhere, rather than change location every few months. They could have built a life for themselves—nothing spectacular, but something solid, something comforting. He could have made friends with the local children. He could have gone on play-dates, and had someone with whom he could have talked about books, or what'd been on the telly the night before, or about anything, really. 

His parents could have made friends of their own. They could all have gone on weekend trips to Diagon Alley, proudly and publicly enjoying their existence. His parents could have been happy.

Remus knew that they were both—his mum, especially—lonely. She had given up everything to marry into a world of magic, and then she’d been cursed with a lycanthrope for a son.

_ She could live normally, they **both** could live normally, if I disappeared. _

But he was too selfish. He loved them too much, and now that he had started Hogwarts, he liked his friends—James and Sirius and Peter and Lily and Sev—too much to leave.

Remus realised, faintly, that he was cheating everyone of their friendship. Little did they know that the person they’d been joking around with was a monster. Yet still, he was too selfish to tell them. If he told them, they would inevitably leave him. They would irrevocably despise him. Remus was too weak to accept being hated.

Quietly, Remus stood up, hoping that the inevitable future was far enough away to ignore.

The bright sky was painful to Remus’s sharp senses. His keen nose picked up the smell of moist grass, fresh pixie dust and chocolate eggs. Remembering that today was Saturday, and that he really was quite hungry, Remus made a quick detour, following his nose, towards the chocolate eggs.

When everyone left him, he’d still, at the very least, have his chocolate eggs. The thought made him smile. It was beautiful, really.

Back at the castle, Remus began to make his way towards Gryffindor tower. On the way, he was intercepted by a certain silver tabby.

As McGonagall changed back into her human form she scrutinised Remus carefully.

“Morning, Professor.” Remus smiled, hoping his dimples would cause her to forget whatever she was thinking.

McGonagall gave him a look which indicated she knew exactly what he was doing. Remus smiled wider.

“Lupin. I take it the visit to your mother was especially taxing. Is she feeling alright?” McGonagall asked, giving Remus a subtle once over.

Remus couldn't quite manage to mask his wince. McGonagall was one of the few teachers at school whom Dumbledore had made privy of his lycanthropy.

“Ah, yes. My mother’s doing fine. Would you like some chocolate eggs, Professor?”

McGonagall pursed her lips. She had little patience for liars. Remus remained silent. After about thirty seconds, her scarce supply of self-control ran dry.

“Your mother doesn’t _ look _ like she’s doing fine, Lupin.” McGonagall snapped. “Your mother, pardon me, rather looks like a deranged convict.”

Remus winced, again.

“A deranged convict who got convicted for robbing Honeydukes.” she eyed Remus’s cheeks. Remus scrubbed at his face. “You’ll forgive me if I have trouble believing that your mother’s doing fine.”

Remus offered her a sheepish smile. “My mother’s a rather commendable woman.”

“Your _ mother _is a senseless fool.”

“Merlin, Professor.” Remus laughed.

McGonagall cast a quick _ scourgify _ on Remus’s shirt, then _ accioed_ her tin of biscuits.

“Take a biscuit, Lupin.”

Remus was delighted to find that McGonagall had somehow procured _ double _chocolate biscuits.

“I love you, Professor.” he said, in all sincerity.

McGonagall sighed. “I know that you know that was highly inappropriate.”

Because she looked like she was trying not to laugh, Remus just grinned back at her.

They walked together aimlessly. Remus was grateful that McGonagall took time out of her busy day to do this for him.

“The essay Pettigrew handed in last class was excellent.” she commented.

Remus was assailed with a sudden and intense interest in the wall. “How long does it take to set the enchantments on the portraits, Professor?” he asked. 

“If I recall correctly,” McGonagall continued, undeterred, “Pettigrew used the word ‘galvanised’.”

_ Shite._

“It’s fascinating that the enchantments are preserved indefinitely,” Remus refused to give in, “I’d have imagined protective enchantments on top would’ve aggravated the spell-work.”

McGonagall’s lips twitched. “I recommend you spend your efforts on _ educating _ Pettigrew instead of pondering the mechanism of sentience preservation and learning how to perfectly replicate Pettigrew’s handwriting.”

Remus had never before appreciated, to this extent, the vibrancy of the Hogwarts walls.

“10 points from Gryffindor. Don’t test me, Lupin.”

Remus sighed.

“That being said, the essay really was excellent, 5 points to Gryffindor.”

Remus smiled apologetically up at McGonagall. The corners of her mouth were upturned.

McGonagall abruptly stopped walking. Remus realised with a start that they were standing at the foot of the infirmary. McGonagall had managed to somehow distract his lycanthropic instincts. This revelation made Remus feel many things. Mostly respect. Probably.

“Profess—”

“5 points from Gryffindor.”

Remus’s jaw dropped. “For what?!”

“For attempting to deceive your Head of House.” Her tone softened as she eyed Remus’s back, “And for not valuing yourself nearly enough.” 

Remus felt unduly annoyed. “Professor!”

McGonagall ignored him and turned to Madame Pomfrey. “Poppy—for reasons unknown to us all, Lupin here decided to greet the whomping willow on his way back from his mother’s.”

McGonagall shared a silent look with Pomfrey—another of the select few who knew of Remus's lycanthropy.

Pomfrey glared at Remus. “Your foolishness knows no bounds, Lupin.”

Remus gaped. “I feel that you’ve all forgotten the existence of Sirius Black and James Potter.”

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. “I feel that _ you’ve _ forgotten that their indubitable idiocy doesn’t detract your own.”

Remus opened his mouth, thought for a while, then closed it again. “Touché.”

Pomfrey snorted. A very pretty Slytherin laughed quietly. Remus had to resist both a double take and a blush. It wasn’t everyday he was publicly shamed in front of the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Thinking again, Remus supposed that this was actually quite typical of his life.

“I’ll see you at lunch, Lupin. Do try to stay away from dangerous sentient species.” And with that, McGonagall was gone.

_ That’s one classy witch, _ thought Remus.

“Right. Lupin.” said Pomfrey.

Remus glanced at Miss Slytherin Beauty.

“Don’t mind Narcissa,” Pomfrey gestured towards the Slytherin, “She’s only here for a half hour more. Besides, she’s intelligent enough to_ keep her mouth shut."_ Pomfrey gave Narcissa a very stern look.

Narcissa gave Pomfrey a slight smile in return—looking every bit a princess from a fairy tale. Pomfrey raised her eyebrows at Remus and gestured impatiently.

Remus looked skywards for a moment. Then, he turned around, grit his teeth, and ignored the dull pain he felt as he took off first his hoodie, and then his T-shirt. Despite his very fervent efforts, he blushed deeply as he felt the shocked gazes of both women.

Regardless of his enhanced lycanthropic healing, Remus knew that his back looked terrific. He appreciated both Pomfrey and Narcissa immensely for holding their tongues.

Pomfrey cleared her throat. “Lay on the bed, Lupin. I’ll have to make you some fresh dittany paste. Have you eaten anything?”

Remus nodded.

“Right, just lay down then. Narcissa, you too—I’ll be back with your potion.”

And then it was only Remus and Narcissa in the room. Remus wished, from the very bottom of his heart, that he had something intelligent to say.

“It’s a lovely day today,” he attempted.

From somewhere behind him, Narcissa replied: “Ah yes, tremulous grey skies and increasing chances of hail. The perfect day for a picnic.”

Remus wished, from the very, very very bottom of his heart, that the ground would swallow him whole. _ Come on Hogwarts, I know you have it in you. _

“Personally, soggy sandwiches don’t hold much appeal, but I can’t fault anyone their personal preferences.” she continued, sounding like she was smiling.

Remus noted that Narcissa was a bit of an arsehole.

Because he was an idiot (and also because he’d been spending too much time with Sirius and James) Remus said: “Thank you for being so open-minded.”

There was a short silence, and then, “It’s my pleasure.”

Remus was frankly bewildered that his conversation with Narcissa had progressed this far.

“So, what are you here for?” Remus asked, after much deliberation.

Narcissa moved to the bed opposite his, so that they could see each other. She looked like she wanted to laugh. “Menstrual cramps.”

_ Nice, Lupin, you blithering idiot. _

“It’s lovely to finally meet you, Remus Lupin,” she smiled. “Sev talks about you and Lily all the time.”

“Thank you.” Remus said, helplessly.

Narcissa’s eyes widened briefly. She threw her head back and laughed. Remus felt himself blush like he had never blushed before.

“Uh, I—eurgh—I meant to say it’s nice. To meet you! To meet you, I mean. It’s nice—to meet you. Too.”

Watching Narcissa laugh, Remus felt a very odd sense of déjà vu.

“I’m Narcissa Black.” she introduced, after her laughter had calmed.

_ Ah, well that explains the déjà vu._ Narcissa looked startlingly like Sirius—with her stormy grey eyes and insouciant mannerisms. Remus felt many conflicting emotions.

_ The Priggish and Most Racist House of Black sure is full of the most gorgeous people. _

“First cousin of Sirius—your friend, from what I’ve gathered.” continued Narcissa, carefully.

Remus observed her silently for a while. She was well groomed—without a sole wrinkle on her robes. Her shoulder length, blond hair looked like something from a hair spray commercial. When she smiled politely at Remus, her grey eyes laughed, as if she knew of the embarrassing effect she was having on him.

Remus was terribly, terribly perplexed. Sirius had never mentioned having a cousin in the school. Remus hadn’t a clue how to respond to anything Narcissa said, and her impeccable manners made it very difficult for Remus to discern anything of value from her behaviour. It didn’t help matters that Remus was also very unused to conversing with beautiful upper-classmen, and was thus, rather tragically, enveloped in his own awkwardness. 

The door to the infirmary opened and in walked one of the Slytherin fourth-year chasers. _ Lucius—Molfop, was it? _

Narcissa summoned a blanket over Remus before Molfop could lay eyes on his back. Remus still felt extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed, but now he felt indebted as well.

Remus fought a sigh and looked back up at Narcissa. He had to work very hard to suppress a shudder when he noticed her eyes weren’t laughing anymore. The polite smile she gave Molfop reminded Remus of a hissing snake.

Remus realised—and not for the first time—that he had come to a school full of very, very exhausting people. He braced himself for the delicate social situation which would inevitably ensue. 

“Malfoy.” said Narcissa, inclining her head.

Molfop—_whoops—_Malfoy, looked at her disinterestedly in return.

“Mother told me to check up on you.” he gave her a quick once over.

Remus thought it was frankly amazing that Malfoy appeared bored out of his pants. He wondered if his pale eyes were defective somehow. 

Belatedly, Remus chastised himself. He was behaving awfully rudely. Narcissa was undoubtedly more than just a pretty face.

“You look fine, Narcissa.” Malfoy appeared to be fighting a scowl. “What was the problem?”

Remus steeled himself for what he assumed would be Narcissa’s sharp reply.

“...”

Remus’s jaw dropped open for the third—_or was it fourth?—_time today.

“Merlin, you’re absolutely insipid, aren’t you?” sneered Malfoy.

This level of stark disrespect was _ absolutely _ not on. Narcissa’s face was a mask. Remus was barely concealing a glare.

“Why? Does it turn you on?” Remus replied, before he could help himself.

Malfoy looked around the infirmary in confusion. 

“Sorry, Molpod, Lucius Molpod—hey, over here! On the bed—yup, hi.”

Malfoy’s cool eyes assessed Remus. Remus was disappointed to find out that Lucius Malfoy was very unfortunately just as handsome as the rumours suggested. 

Malfoy opened his mouth to speak, but Remus felt that suffering fools the day after the full moon was too much for a Saturday morning. “You know, if you have a fetish for insipidness you could consider just fucking yourself.” he smiled widely, ensuring his dimples were shining in all their glory.

Except for a faint redness around his cheeks, Malfoy looked largely unbothered, but Narcissa’s eyes were laughing again, so Remus counted his subpar rebuttals a win.

“...Does this filthy creature think he’s amusing?” Malfoy asked, finally.

“The Very Amusing _F__ilthy Creature _has a name, you insufferable buffoon.” snapped Narcissa.

Remus decided that he very much liked her. He gave her a grateful smile. She winked at him in return.

_ Princess? This girl’s a queen. _

Malfoy’s eyes widened comically, and the faint blush on his cheeks darkened. Noting Malfoy's subtle intake of breath as he looked at Narcissa—as if it was the first time he’d ever seen her—Remus vaguely wondered if Malfoy was perhaps a masochistic pervert.

The thought gave him unbridled joy, especially so when it appeared that Narcissa hadn’t noticed at all. Sometimes, Remus was very thankful that he went to a school full of exhausting people. 

“It’s too early for visiting hours, Malfoy. Get out.” Pomfrey had returned.

Remus grinned. Narcissa ignored Malfoy. Malfoy looked confused and lost as he made his way out of the infirmary. Feeling slightly sorry, Remus gave him a pleasant wave. Malfoy sneered and gave him the finger in return.

“Don’t forget to fuck yourself!” Remus called after him.

“Lupin!”

Narcissa laughed.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sirius was trying, unsuccessfully, to not think of Cissa kissing Remus’s cheek in the great hall.

The self-absorbed bint had smirked at Sirius. As if her actions affected Sirius personally. _ Ha! _ Sirius didn’t care. _ HaHAHAH! _Sirius didn’t care at all!

Remus wore cardigans for fuck’s sake! And weird Muggle clothes! And he was always reading! And he ate wayyyyyy too much chocolate! It was weird!

Sirius did not care. He didn’t care AT ALL. _ Ha! _The audacity of Cissa to think he cared.

“Why did Cissa kiss you.” Sirius asked, nonchalantly. Because he Did Not Care. 

Remus looked over at Sirius. He had a chocolate smear on his bottom lip. Sirius felt a deep hatred for chocolate. And for lips. And for tongues which flicked out to lick the aforementioned chocolate. What crazy, sex-craved wanker had invented tongues?!

“In greeting, I guess.” Sirius didn’t miss Remus’s very obvious blush. His eyes narrowed.

“You realise she’s a bint, yeah?” Sirius asked, _ nonchalantly. _

Remus laughed, “A bit of an arse, yeah, I love her.”

Sirius gaped. _ No. NO no NONO NONo NO. _

“She’s been breaking hearts as long as I have! Longer even, since she’s older! She’s a fucking troll, she thinks it’s fun! And she’s engaged to that Malfoy twat! And she’s waYYYYY out of your league, mate. Like, she’s eons out of your league.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Calm down, you dramatic loser. I don’t have a crush on her. And _ you _ think breaking hearts is fun as well—don’t be a hypocrite.”

“Wha— HEY. _ HEY._ I don’t go around _ KISSING _ my fucking _ PREY _ like a fucking _ DEMENTOR."_

“MATE! Shut the _FUCK_ up! We've got an actual crisis!” James shouted, hitting Sirius, very hard, with a pillow.

They were currently, all of them, in a meeting. Which James had called. Because James, the fucking knob, had finally realised that he had a pathetic crush on Evans.

Peter looked like he was falling asleep.

Sirius scowled. “Mate. We fucking know that you like her.”

James smirked. “And we all know that she likes me back. So all I have to do is ask her out, yeah?”

Sirius exchanged an incredulous look with Remus.

“Uh, mate—” began Remus.

“I thought she hated you?” asked Pete, rubbing his eyes.

James laughed. Sirius winced at the poorly concealed panic.

“She LOVES me. She’s just playing hard to get.”

Sirius clapped James’s shoulder. “She isn’t, mate. She fucking hates your guts.” 

James laughed again. “Funny Sirius, you’re funny. Isn’t he funny, Remus?”

Remus was looking at James with pity. “You’re terribly rude to her, James.”

James laughed. And laughed. And then he stopped laughing and stared into the distance. “Is she dating Sniv— Snape?”

Sirius remembered the way Snape looked at Remus, when he thought Remus wasn’t looking. He scowled, deeply.

“Nah, they’re just friends.” Remus answered.

“Then she must like me.” James replied, in a matter of fact manner.

Sirius couldn’t believe this. “James. I love you, mate, you know I love you. And I promise you, Evans definitely, definitely doesn’t like you.”

James was beginning to look a bit scared. “But everyone likes me. Look at all those love letters.” He pointed to an ever growing mound of letters at the foot of his bed.

“Mate. You’re fighting fit. You are. But Evans hates you. D’you remember Divination?”

James winced. Peter snorted.

“She divined you were a piece of shit in your last life, mate.” Remus said. “A piece of literal shit. And then she looked at you and said _‘not much has changed, then.’_”

_ Ah, Evans._ Sirius almost respected her sometimes.

“She’s a bitch, mate. Forget about her—” Peter began.

"“She’s _not _ a bitch.”" Remus and James growled.

_ Well then. _“She’s a bit of a whippersnapper.” Sirius said.

Remus looked at him. “You’re assimilating too strongly into Muggle culture.”

Sirius grinned and threw an arm over Remus’s shoulders. “I know, isn’t it great?”

From this distance Sirius could count every single one of Remus’s freckles.

Remus smiled at him. “It is.”

Sirius’s heart did a very odd something that it had never done before. At least not before he had met Remus. Sirius thought back to Cissa’s kiss, and Snape's furtive glances. His stomach clenched very uncomfortably. 

Remus was his. Well, not _ his _per se. But, well— 

“Sirius. It smells like something died in your mouth.”

Sirius took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly and dramatically all over Remus’s face. Remus gagged.

“STOP FLIRTING IN MY FACE YOU INSENSITIVE KNOBS!” James shouted.

Remus stuck his tongue out at James and pushed Sirius away.

“BACK TO ME, LOOK BACK TO ME!” James bellowed.

Remus sighed and moved to James’s side. Sirius glared at Peter. Peter looked scared and confused. Peter hadn’t done anything to deserve being glared at. But Sirius was frustrated. And also a bit of an arsehole.

“How do I make her like me, Remus.” James asked, for once looking very unsure of himself.

He was appealing to Remus’s maternal instincts. _ That sneaky wanker. _

Remus, because he was a kind fool, melted. His honey-brown eyes went all soft and lovely as he gently ruffled the messy mop that James called hair.

“You have to prove to her that you’re not a jerk.”

James made a face. “I’m _ not _ a jerk!”

Remus laughed. “You’re a jerk sometimes, mate. But you’re good, you’re very very good. When she sees that she won’t be able to help herself.”

James rubbed his face. “D’you really think so?” he asked, softly.

Sirius melted as well, then. He walked over to James and lay himself over James’s lap.

“I _ know _so, Jamesie-darling. Who could ever resist you?” Sirius grinned a wolfish grin.

“Please don’t kiss me.” James said.

“I’ll restrain myself, but only because Evans holds your heart.”

Remus laughed and looked at Sirius fondly.

They made a plan. All of them. Well, actually, it was mostly Sirius and James—with Remus proof-checking that whatever they did wouldn’t get them killed by Evans’s hands, and Pete supplying snacks.

Then, they moved to the common room, because they were Gryffindors, and never let it be said that Gryffindors aren’t reckless.

Evans was sitting in one of the sofas, talking to Marlene. Sirius scowled when he realised that Snape was right next to her. Remus’s stupid dimples had convinced their entire house to adopt the quiet Slytherin. 

Remus went forward first. He smiled a lot as he spoke—charming them, doubtlessly. At one point they all laughed. Marlene kissed Remus on the cheek.

_ What the fu— _Sirius bared his teeth at Marlene. She looked over at him and winked.

Remus beckoned them all over.

Sirius looked over at James. He looked as self-assured as ever, but Sirius could tell, because Sirius really did love him, that he was anything but. Sirius threw an arm over James’s shoulders.

“You’re the man, mate.”

James grinned over at him. “I’m the man.”

“Or the woman.” supplied Peter.

Sirius looked over at Peter approvingly, “Or the woman, or the person. You’re the person, James.”

James laughed, “Or the mermaid, or the house-elf, or the werewolf—I’m the thing, got it.”

Sirius nodded. “You’re the thing, mate.”

* * *

“You’re so cute, Remus.” Marlene said, clinging onto his arms.

Remus laughed. She had just called a murderous werewolf cute. “Yup. That’s me. Adorable.”

Marlene glanced behind him, “Oohhh, here comes your posse.” She made an appreciative noise, “How do you keep your wits together sleeping in the same room as _ them?_ I’d die. I’d absolutely die if I saw James and Sirius with their shirts off.”

“Gee, thanks Marlene.”

Marlene laughed. She had an amazing laugh, it was loud and sunny and incredibly contagious.

Lily looked over at Marlene. “I think I’d die too. Just not for the same reasons as you.”

“Death by disgust.” Sev nodded.

Remus managed to stifle a laugh, but it was a close thing.

“Cissa was asking about you, by the way.”

Remus’s face brightened. Narcissa—Cissa—was the wicked older sister he’d never had.

Marlene’s eyes widened. “How do you attract all these babes, Remus. Won’t you teach me your ways?”

Remus smiled in a way he hoped looked secretive and spun Marlene around, “You’re plenty attractive as is, Marlene.”

Marlene giggled and went a bit red about her ears. Remus had a hard time believing that someone this adorable had called him cute. She fit very nicely in his arms, and had the loveliest chocolate brown eyes

“Have I ever told you how lov—_ eurgh!”_

Something grabbed Remus from behind and yanked him away. From the sound of their footsteps, Remus guessed that this person was Sirius—the bane of Remus's Peace.

“Took your bloody time.” muttered Sev.

_ That’s odd, _thought Remus. Perhaps Sev didn’t hate the rest of them as much as he liked to pretend. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time Sev behaved in a contradictory manner.

Sirius glared at Marlene, and then Sev. And then for some reason at Lily.

“Down, boy.” Lily rolled her eyes.

Marlene smirked and latched herself onto Sirius’s arm. “Hiya Sirius, I missed you.”

Sirius’s face melted into a crooked grin, “Who wouldn’t? You’re looking as gorgeous as ever, Marlene.”

Remus sighed. Sirius was way too easy.

“Evans. You’re looking fit, as always.” said James.

“Potter. You’re looking like a toad, as always.” replied Lily.

James smirked, “Keep telling yourself that.”

Remus tried very hard to non-verbally tell James to shut up.

Lily looked at James like he was something stuck to the sole of her shoe. Sev laughed.

“Lily’s blind—you look fit, James.” Marlene supplied, winking at James.

James smiled and kissed the top of Marlene’s head. “Thanks, love.”

“Marlene thinks the Bloody Baron’s fit as well.” said Sev, casually.

The meaning behind his words was obvious. James and Sirius scowled at him. Lily took a defensive stance.

Remus sighed. _ Fuck the plan, I guess. _

_"Marlene_ is an individual with an abundance of appreciation,” Remus tapped Sev gently on the arm, “That being said, the Bloody Baron _ is _ pretty fit.”

Sev’s eyes widened. “You think the Bloody Baron’s fit?”

“I mean—yeah, I guess.”

Lily and Marlene nodded, “It’s the whole brooding thing.”

Sirius stared at Remus. “You’re into the whole brooding thing?”

Remus didn’t understand why everyone was still having this conversation. “As much as the next bloke, I guess…”

“Oh, Remus, that reminds me, Aubrey asked me to ask you if you wanted to watch the quidditch final with him this weekend.” Lily supplied.

Sirius’s head swivelled. “Aubrey? Bertram? Bertram Aubrey?! The Ravenclaw?!”

Lily looked at Sirius like he was crazy, “Uh, yeah.”

Sirius, for reasons unknown to most everybody, had a deep rooted dislike for Bertram Aubrey. They were very different people, Remus supposed.

James’s face lit up. “Fancy going with me, Evans?”

Lily looked at him incredulously. “No.”

James, bless him, kept at it. “Awe come on, Evans. I’m the fittest in the year—”

“It’s true, Evans. Look at him.” Sirius backed, quietly conceding a position he usually fought for.

“—When else are you going to get the chance?”

Remus winced.

“Fuck off.” Lily said, moving to get up. 

Remus’s instincts screamed—the problem, however, was that Marlene was in between Remus and whatever was causing Remus’s instincts to scream. _ Fuck. _

On her way up, Lily accidentally bumped into Peter, who had been standing, quietly, to the side. This collision caused Peter to stumble backwards and bump into a burly third year. A burly third year who was currently (for some reason) holding a platter of yule jelly, and who dropped the said jelly all over his robes when Pete bumped into him.

“Fuck! Who’s the useless cunt—”

By the time Remus got there, the third year—_Julius Mastier—_was reaching for Peter’s scruff. Remus shoved himself in between both parties and smiled at Mastier.

Mastier sneered. _ Dimples are out, then. _Remus tried very hard to think of a plan which didn’t result in him outing his very superhuman strength as Mastier raised his arm.

“Hey, it was an honest mistake, really. A quick _ scourgify_’ll clean it all up.” he tried.

Behind him, Pete had begun to shiver. Remus reached for his hand and gave it a quick squeeze.

“Out of my way, Scarface.”

Mastier smelled like he wanted a fight. Before Remus could brace himself, someone threw a stinging hex at Mastier’s face. Remus smiled over his shoulder—it was Sirius, he looked livid. They all looked livid. Remus thanked his luck for giving him such good friends.

James shoved himself in front of Mastier. “Apologise.”

By this point, Mastier had shook off the hex. 

“Apologise.” James repeated.

Marlene was holding Sirius back. “Apologise right now, arsehole.” Sirius grit out.

Mastier still smelled like he wanted a fight. “Get out of my way Scarface, so that I can beat the Fat Fucker—”

Remus growled before he could stop himself—it was a deep, guttural sound. Mastier took a step back. They all took a step back, even Peter. This was _ exactly _ why Remus avoided confrontation.

Sev gave Remus an unreadable look and took hold of his robes, holding him back. Remus took a deep breath and tried again.

_"Scourgify.”_ Mastier’s robes were spelled clean. “There. It was a mistake, mate. Alright?”

Mastier smelled like fear. “You’re a fucking freak.”

Remus froze. Panic, like a living thing, began to crawl up his throat.

_“Furnunculus!” _Sirius shouted.

Fat boils erupted on Mastier’s face.

_“Flipendo!”_ said James.

Mastier fell backwards. James climbed over him and took hold of his collar. Sirius strained against Marlene’s stronghold.

Remus remained frozen. He felt like he’d forgotten how to breathe. The worst thing was that he was more than just a freak, he was a monster. He was a monster and they all kne—

“Breathe, Remus. Breathe.” whispered Lily.

Remus registered someone—_Sev—_rubbing circles on his back. He plastered a smile on his face. The panic was still there, but repressed now. Repressed under layers and layers of deception.

“Apologise, Mastier. _Don’t make me say it again.”_ James hissed.

Peter was staring at the floor and blinking rapidly. Remus swallowed another growl. Pete was sensitive about his appearance. _ Just because Mastier wants a fight, that bloody testosterone-high moron._ Remus counted to seven in his head.

“Apologise to Peter, Mastier. What you said was uncalled for.” Remus said, calmly—because by this point he really was quite good at hiding his emotions.

Sirius broke free from Marlene and began to make his way towards Mastier. Heavy, thick anger rolled off him like a tsunami. Remus reached out and took hold of his arm. Sirius tried to throw him off, but Remus was a werewolf, and werewolf strength—even young werewolf strength—was miles greater than a human. No way was Remus letting Sirius do something which would irrefutably get him expelled.

“Sirius.” Remus said. 

“Apologise to Peter _ and _ Remus, Mastier. _ Now.”_ James tightened his hold on Mastier’s collar.

Sirius stopped resisting Remus, and allowed himself to be pulled back. Remus noticed that the grip on his wand hadn’t lessened.

“... Sorry, Peter.” said Mastier. 

Lily, who had her arms around Peter, gave Mastier an acidic look.

_"And?” _spat James.

“S— Sor— Sorry, Re— Remus.”

James loosened his hold, “Now it’s up to them to decide whether or not they forgive you.”

Peter remained silent.

Remus took in Mastier’s appearance. Even though he was staring unflinchingly back at Remus, he smelled like fear. His hands were tightly clenched, but Remus could make out the tremor in them. Remus eyed the small crowd they had drawn. Mastier was just a kid. He was just a kid who didn’t know what to do with his negative emotions. He’d just wanted a fight. Remus shook his head slightly at the stupidity of Mastier’s actions. But that’s all they were—stupid, not malicious.

“You’re a jerk, Mastier.” Remus gently shook off Sev, and walked towards Mastier. Mastier flinched. Remus spread his hands out in a gesture of peace. Then, he offered a hand to Mastier, who was still on the floor, and smiled, as gently as he could. “But all in all no harm done, on my end at least.”

Mastier’s eyes widened. He tentatively took Remus’s hand, and Remus pulled him up.

“That being said,” Remus lowered his voice so that only the two of them could hear, “Don’t you fucking dare say something like that to Peter ever again.”

Mastier flinched again, and nodded. He looked embarrassed. Remus rolled his eyes and thumped Mastier on the back—just a smidge too hard (because Remus was just a _ smidge _still angry over what he’d said to Peter).

“I’m really sorry, Peter.” Mastier said, again—with less fear and more repentance. With boils erupted over his entire face, and his head bowed slightly, he made for a sorry sight.

James moved over to Peter and whispered something in his ear. Peter huffed a laugh. Sirius, who still looked livid, stood behind Peter, glowering at Mastier with one hand on Peter’s shoulder. Lily glared at Mastier, with her arms crossed in front of her. Sev stood to the side, giving Mastier a look of cold disdain (which Remus suspected he had learnt from Cissa). Marlene scowled at Mastier, from Lily’s side.

They looked formidable together. Remus smiled and thumped Mastier on the back again, this time more gently.

“Look, I really am sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have overreacted—you didn’t deserve that.”

Peter glanced up at Remus. Remus gave him a reassuring grin in return. Then, Peter looked back to Mastier, “It’s fine, Mastier.”

And that was that.

Later, when they were back in their rooms, James moaned about never getting to put his ‘Seducing Lily Evans’ plan in action. Remus quietly looked up from his book and thought about the way Lily had looked at James, after everything was concluded. _ Maybe there’s hope after all. _

“Hmmm…. Who knows?” Remus hummed noncommittally amidst the groans, because Lily was his Muggle-things friend, and Remus was loyal to her as well.

James’s face lit up. Remus grinned in response.

Sirius threw himself on Remus’s bed. “So. Brooding, huh?”

Remus fell back on his pillow with a groan, “Why is this conversation still happening?”

“Are you going to watch the final with Aubrey?” asked Peter.

“I mean, why not? I haven’t really gotten a chance to catch up with him recently.”

Sirius looked Betrayed. “You can’t go with Bertram! You have to go with us!”

James hit Sirius with a pillow. “He doesn’t _ have _to do anything, you massive numpty.”

Sirius looked **Betrayed**. “Bertram’s weird! He’s totally weird! You can’t go with him!”

Peter yawned, “You know, I always thought Aubrey had a crush on you, Remus.”

Remus felt himself blush. _ Bertram? _

Sirius’s head swivelled—as it was so opt to do—towards Peter. “What? Bertram? _ Bertram?! _On Remus?! Who would like Remus?! He wears cardigans!”

_ That’s true, _Remus thought.

James threw a mild stinging hex at Sirius. “Remus is a fucking catch, don’t you pretend otherwise.”

Remus blushed again.

“You’re too young! I’m telling Hope! I’m telling Hope you’re doing inappropriate things at school!” Sirius screeched.

Remus covered his ears. James stood up on his bed and jumped towards Remus’s, tackling Sirius, “You sound like a harpy trying to attract a mate. Do us a favour, and _ shut the fuck up, Sirius. _”

Sirius opened his mouth (to screech some more, Remus presumed), but James threw a pillow at his face, so he shut up. Remus secretly suspected that James and Sirius could converse telepathically.

“Join us, Pete.” James commanded, imperiously.

Remus lifted his head. “I don’t understand why we always have to do this on _ my _bed.”

Peter joined them. Remus fell back again on his pillow. Sirius joined him this time.

“You can’t go with Bertram, Remus.” Sirius said, quietly.

Remus groaned. He couldn’t believe he’d survived a full academic year of dealing with these exhausting, exhausting people. _ Well, I do love them, I suppose. _Remus tried very hard to keep the fondness from his expression. He’d promised McGonagall that he wouldn’t encourage them, after all.

* * *

Remus, the traitor, went to the final quidditch match of the year with Big-headed Bertram. 

Sirius, James and Peter were there as well _(__of course!), _to chaperone for Hope. And to glare. At big-headed Bertram—that sneaky weasel. And to sulk, when Remus (the traitor) laughed at the Big-headed Weasel’s stupid, lame jokes.

Hufflepuff won against Ravenclaw. Sirius started a standing ovation.

On the ride back, on the Hogwarts express, Sirius tried very hard not to cry (of frustration). Their carriage was full of the most random people. Marlene was welcome anytime, but who had invited Evans? And Snape?! Sirius sent Remus a wounded look. Remus, the plonker, just laughed and offered Sirius a square of chocolate.

Sirius wasn’t easy. He _wasn’t_. Sirius took the chocolate, nonetheless.

Staring out the window, Sirius reminisced over his first year at Hogwarts. He thought back to weekly rendezvous with Minnie, to nightly escapades with James (and sometimes Remus and Peter too) and the fab invisibility cloak. He thought back to Cissa—one of the rare Blacks whom he liked. And then he thought back to that pathetic sod, Malfoy. _ What a loser. _Cissa had him wrapped around her perfect finger.

Sirius thought back to the majestic, old castle where he had found home, for the first time in his life.

He could hear James trying (and failing) to impress Evans in the background. Looking across from him, Sirius noticed Remus had fallen asleep. He’d just gotten back from his mother’s a few days ago.

Sirius found these visits a tad strange. Hope, in her continued correspondence, didn’t write like someone who was terminally ill. _ To be fair, _Sirius thought, _ Euphemia doesn’t write like an old lady either. _

Sirius grinned. He thought about the strange, non-moving Muggle ‘posters’ stuffed in his trunk, courtesy of Hope. He was excited to make his parents’ life a living hell.

_ Walby, Oreo, I’m back! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this, the first year arc is over :)
> 
> Narcissa's two years older than the marauders, and Lucius is a year older than Narcissa.
> 
> I haven't proof read this so pls forgive any grammatical errors.
> 
> EDIT: I have now proofread this chapter several times! Please forgive any grammatical errors, either way. (I would be much obliged if you could comment below with any errors you do see such that I can fix them—I'm still learning, after all :) )


	4. Is This What They Call 'Change'?

Sirius eyed the crowd of ancient, boring prigs who filled the Black ballroom. Surreptitiously, Sirius eyed Uncle Alphard’s firewhisky.

Uncle Alphard grinned at Sirius and took a deep swig. “Twelve’s far too young.”

Sirius called upon the dredges of snobbiness integrated deep within his genes and gave Uncle Alphard a contemptuous look. “I’m nearly thirteen, old man.”

Alphard took another deep swig. “Anyone who’s too young to have hair on their balls is too young for firewhisky.”

Sirius gave Uncle Alphard another contemptuous look. “I have hair on my balls, old man.”

Alphard drained his glass and snapped his fingers for a refill. Clear amber liquid filled the glass instantaneously. “Prove it, you coward.”

Sirius began to unbutton his robes. He got as far as pulling them off when some crazy bint from who knows where dug her talons in his arm and stopped his progress. Sirius turned another Look of Contempt at the unnamed perpetrator.

Cissa looked back at him coolly. “Spare my eyes, Sirius.”

Next to her, Dromeda beamed and waved, “Hallo.”

Sirius refused to stop giving Cissa the Look of Contempt.

“You look like you’re trying to defecate in your pants.” she said.

“That’s because I _ am _trying to defecate in my pants.”

Cissa swiped the back of her finger over the tip of her nose. “That would explain the smell.”

Sirius smiled, all teeth. “Don’t you have lives to destroy, Cissa?”

““Already done.”” Dromeda and Cissa said, at the same time.

Sirius eyed them both with poorly concealed envy. Reg hadn’t spoken to him all summer.

“Piss off then, both of you. Unless you want to see the hair on my balls. Which is_ very much there, old man.” _Sirius directed the last part at Alphard.

Uncle Alphard raised his glass in a toast and meandered away—to subtly insult Walby in everyday conversation (or so Sirius hoped).

“What’s this I hear about you being corrupted by Muggles?” asked Dromeda, as soon as Alphard was out of hearing distance.

Sirius smirked at her. “Just driving Walby and Oreo insane. All in a day’s work.”

Dromeda laughed. Cissa’s eyes danced.

“Speaking of insufferable relations, how’s Bellatrix?”

Dromeda winced. Cissa’s hand tightened around her glass (which Sirius strongly suspected was filled with elven wine). “Utterly barmy.”

Sirius was thankful that Bellatrix had graduated from Hogwarts the year before he joined. He shuddered to think of going to the same school as her.

“Hey, Sirius, how come you never say hi to me in school?” Dromeda pouted.

Sirius shrugged, insouciantly.

Cissa laughed, in that rare unbridled way that Sirius loved best, “He doesn’t want to share.”

Dromeda raised her eyebrows and grinned at Sirius.

Sirius blushed. In a manly way. Because he was a Manly Man. “I don’t know what you’re talking about you crazy bint. Now, if you’d fu—”

“He doesn’t want to share Wizarding Britain’s most charming dimples.” Narcissa’s lips curved into a slight smirk.

Dromeda’s grin widened. “Remus. I should have known.”

Sirius did not blush further. He didn't. He _ didn’t. _What crazy fucker had aimed a warming charm at him?! “As I said, I haven’t a clue what you’re on about. Who’s Remus?”

Cissa smirked outright, “My boyfriend, you tosser.”

Sirius’s mind froze. Only for a second, though. Then, his mind went on overdrive. “Since when, you bitch. The first half of summer? The last week of term? Have you been _ hiding _ it this entire time?! I knew it! _ I KNEW IT! _You’re such a _ fucking bitch, Narcissa_—_” _

“I’m kidding, you pathetic idiot.”

A wave, an ocean, no, an entire _ universe _ of relief crashed down on Sirius.

“Who’s Remus, my arse.” muttered Cissa.

Dromeda pinched Sirius’s cheeks in glee, “Awweee, widdle Siwius, all gwown up...”

“Shut up.” Sirius said. With poise. Because Sirius had Poise.

“Remus, though,” Dromeda wondered, out loud, “He’s out of your league—”

“He is.” Cissa confirmed.

“You’ll have some serious competition. He’s got a fan club, you know—”

“He does.” Cissa chimed.

Sirius scoffed. “His fan club’s full of people who think he’s cute! They don’t have _ crushes _ on Remus! No one has a _ crush _ on Remus! He dresses weird! And he’s always reading! He’s _ always _ bloody _ reading!” _

Cissa gave Sirius a look. “Yeah, he’s smart. And nice. And funny. And beautiful—don’t you deny it, Sirius. Give him a few years and no one’s going to think he looks 'cute’ anymore.”

Sirius felt his stomach clench uncomfortably. “Whatever, it’s not like I care or anything. Remus's my mate.”

“James is your mate. Peter’s your mate.” Cissa gave him another look. Sirius scowled. “Are you denying your feelings on purpose, or are you genuinely thick?”

“Remus is my mate.” Sirius said, again, looking directly into Cissa’s eyes.

Cissa huffed quietly.

“Er, Cissa, your fiancé’s staring at you.” Dromeda said.

Both Sirius and Cissa turned to look at Lucius Malfoy.

“Lucy really is pathetic.” said Sirius.

“I know.” sighed Narcissa.

Sirius looked at her face on, then. “Cissa. If you ever want to break off your engagement, I’ll back you up. I’ll help you run away on your wedding night if you need me. Honestly, I’ll help you run away _ after _your wedding night too.”

Cissa looked startled—which was a rare look on her. Then, she gave Sirius a smile, full of sunshine. “Thank you, Sirius. I’ll be there for you too, wherever, whenever.”

“I’ll be there for the both of you as well, so both of you better be there for me!” Dromeda chimed in. 

Sirius felt a warmth in his chest. He had family who had chosen to love him, right here.

“Er, Cissa, your fiancé’s making his way here.”

Cissa's nostrils flared and she turned a look of pure ice towards Lucy. Sirius would’ve felt bad for him if he wasn’t so thoroughly amused.

“Dromeda, I’ll give you thirty galleons to distract him, I need to talk to Sirius in private.”

Dromeda made a face. “Fifty galleons.”

Cissa vanished her glass. “Ten galleons.”

“Morgana’s tits. Fine, thirty galleons.”

After Dromeda had sacrificed herself for the greater good, Cissa turned to Sirius. “What do you know about Lyall Lupin?” she asked.

Sirius frowned. “He’s Remus’s dad. Uh… he married Hope—a Muggle. He works in the Ministry, I think?”

“Anything else?”

“What is this, twenty questions?”

Cissa looked irritated, “I’ve asked you two questions, Sirius. Do you not have the intellectual capacity to count properly?”

“It’s a Muggle game, you dramatic bint.”

_ “Do you know anything else about Lyall Lupin?” _

Sirius shook his head, “No.”

Narcissa looked around the ballroom and lowered her voice, “We can’t have this conversation here—take me to your room.”

Sirius felt unnerved enough to comply without complaint. 

Back in his room, Cissa pointed a _ colloportus _at his door, backing it with a privacy charm. Then, she turned to look back at him, frowning slightly.

“Lyall Lupin—half blood, forty-three years old,” she began. Sirius fell back on his bed and turned a disinterested eyebrow up at her. “Works in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures—”

“Why do you know so much about him?” Sirius frowned.

“Shut up.” Cissa snarled, “Described by his colleagues as clever and shy, but universally feared when angry,” she continued.

She had begun to pace the room with her arms crossed in front of her. Sirius furrowed his eyebrows as he removed his robes and took off his tie.

“In his early years, he was renowned in the ministry for his push on tighter werewolf regulations. When angered, there are repeated accounts of him making uncharacteristically harsh comments.”

Sirius felt a bit lightheaded.

“What do you know about werewolves, Sirius?”

“Only what Walburga’s told me. So, nothing, really.”

Cissa muttered a spell and her stiff, formal robes undid themselves. She looked at Sirius with a masked expression. Sirius hated that look on her face.

“They’re considered evil. Soulless. They are feared and hated,” Cissa’s eyes blazed, “Often, they live their entire lives in poverty as a result of prejudice.” Cissa pointed her wand at her mouth, _ “Aguamenti.” _

Sirius vaguely registered that Walburga would’ve lost her mind if she saw The Rose of the House of Black behaving like a common tramp.

“They have advanced senses and superior strength. A werewolf bite has the potential to turn it’s human victim. Only a paste made of dittany and silver can heal any wounds inflicted by a werewolf. Even then, all wounds will scar permanently.”

Cissa stopped moving then. She turned her entire body towards Sirius and lowered her tone, “I need you to answer me straight—have you ever seen Remus topless?”

Sirius flushed. “No.” 

Cissa furrowed her brows and sat on Sirius’s bed. 

“He—he showers at odd times. And he changes with his canopy drawn shut.” Sirius felt compelled to justify himself.

They remained in silence for a while. Cissa held herself like she was working up to say something. “I’ve seen Remus topless.”

Sirius scowled. “Real matu—”

“Oh, _shut up, _you fucking loser—we were in the infirmary.” she pursed her lips before continuing, “He had wounds all over his back. It looked like he got mauled by a savage beast.”

Sirius’s heart skipped a beat.

“...In the summer of 1965, Fenrir Greyback was brought in for questioning at the Ministry.” 

Sirius’s blood ran cold at the mention of the infamous lycanthrope.

“The main authority at his questioning was Lyall Lupin. A week afterwards, Lyall and Hope Lupin moved towns.”

Sirius could hear his heart thumping in his ears.

“Every month, on the night of the full moon, Remus ‘visits his mother’.”

Sirius and Narcissa looked at each other. What they were both thinking, and what remained unsaid, was the way that Remus appeared more tired around the full moon. The way he ate more meat, and was more restless.

Sirius thought about the noise Remus had made when he’d growled at Mastier. The way he seemed to react to danger. As if he could _ sense _it... 

Soundlessly, Sirius put his head in his hands. With Narcissa sitting quietly by his side, an entire lifetime seemed to pass.

“...He’s not evil, Cissa. He’s the goodest thing in the whole world.” 

Sirius believed this, more than he’d ever believed anything in his entire life. He feared then, for the way that Narcissa might react.

Cissa gently bumped Sirius’s shoulder. “I know that better than you, Sirius.” she said, quietly.

Sirius looked up at her from in between his hands, _"N__o one _ knows that better than me.”

Cissa smiled. “Well, you _ do _ spend an unhealthy amount of time staring at him.”

For once, Sirius didn’t argue.

Then, Sirius owled a quick letter to James, asking him to floo sometime over the next few days. It was silently agreed, between Sirius and Narcissa, that save for James, the contents of their discussion would remain disclosed. 

Later, when Cissa and Sirius were walking down to the ballroom, Cissa whispered: “I forgot to mention before, but lycanthrope sex—” Sirius missed a step and nearly fell to his untimely demise.“—is rumoured to be _ legendary.” _she smirked, with all of her carefully masked arrogance.

Sirius did _ not _think about lycanthrope sex for the rest of the boring function. 

That night, he didn’t dream about moist, red lips and long, freckled limbs. His mind never conjured a fantasy about a body which tangled with his own and set a fire with it’s every touch. There were no wet tongues and rough hands. Neither were there any heart-stopping smiles and slow, _ slow, _ kisses, which tasted of honey and melted the entire universe into a throbbing, aching desire. Sirius did not yearn. His feelings never grew, _ and grew _ into branches and leaves which hurt when you touched them. He never dreamed of soft, honey eyes which looked only, and _ only _at him, and softer lips, which kissed first his neck, and then his mouth. Hungry, hungry, and oh so delicious all at the same time.

Sirius **definitely ** did ** _not _ **awaken disappointed, and with dampness soaking his crotch.

_ Fuck. _

* * *

It was two months into second year and Sirius Black was behaving weird(er than usual).

Now that Remus thought about it, James Potter was likewise behaving strange(r than normal).

Peter hadn’t noticed, but Peter rarely noticed anything. 

Sirius Black and James Potter were definitely behaving odd. Very odd. And it was driving Remus insane.

***

Exhibit A: 

“Sirius. James. Why is there a plate of raw meat on my bed.”

A silent look passed between the two fools.

“You’re a skinny lad, Remus.”

Remus rubbed his forehead. “Okay. So why is there a plate of _ raw meat on my bed.” _

“Don’t be a picky sod.”

Exhibit B: 

“Hey, have any of you seen my charms ess— wOAH!”

Two heads of black hair—one impossibly glossy and the other impossibly messy—twitched.

Remus narrowed his eyes. 

“James. Sirius. Why—_why—_is there a photo of a wolf wearing women’s underwear on my desk.”

Grey eyes refused to meet his own.

“You’re a growing lad, Remus.”

“Okay._ So why is there a photo of a _ ** _wolf wearing women’s underwear on my desk._ ** _ ” _

Hazel eyes looked up morosely, “I told you he would’ve preferred the swimsuit.”

Exhibit C: 

“Ah fuck, we’re out of hair potion—”

“Here you go.”

“Thanks mat— James?! Get out!”

“Don’t be a sissy.”

_ “James!” _

“Oi! Sirius! Get in here!”

“Wha—_ Wha—_ Sirius! Don’t you dare! Get out right now!”

An audible gulp. Tanned arms elbowed pale ones. Freckled arms, in the meanwhile, did their very best to preserve their modesty.

“Why. _ Why. _ **_Why are you in the shower wi_****_th me.__” _**

“Friendship milestone.”

** _ “__James. What the fuck are you rubbing on my back.__” _ **

“Aconite bubble-wash.”

** _ “Get out.” _ **

***

Remus was losing his mind. He took deep breaths as he made his way to the dungeons from Gryffindor tower, barely sparing a glance at Peeves as he drew green nipples on a moving suit of armour.

_ “Mercy.” _

The stone wall gave way to the Slytherin common room. Looking around, Remus began to make his way to the girl’s dormitory.

“Oi! You can’t go u— oh hey, Remus, what’s up?”

“The ceiling, I’d presume.”

“Funny.”

Once inside, Remus made a beeline for Cissa’s room, throwing open the door.

“Cissa! Sirius and Jame— oh wow, oh my god, Lucius are those _ muggle handcuf—” _

“Not another word, you filthy creature.”

Remus waited patiently as Lucius rearranged himself and promptly fled from sight. _ Well. He certainly isn’t fucking _ _ himself__. _The entire room smelled of sex.

Remus looked at Cissa—lying on her bed in her underwear, and playing with her wand.

“I despise him.” she said, casually.

“Right. That explains why he was on your bed. Handcuffed. Oh, and naked. We can’t forget the naked. Wow, will you Obliviate me.”

Cissa summoned a glass of <strike> elven wine</strike> water.

“We were just having some fun.”

“Alright.”

“We were bored.”

“Uh, okay.”

Cissa’s face was turning a very fetching pink. Remus had never seen her look so obviously mortified. He felt a stab of sympathy.

“Hey, whatever, just a bit of fun, yeah?” he said.

Cissa _ accioed _ plush black robes from her wardrobe and smiled at Remus. “Yeah.”

Remus sat on the floor and leaned back on Cissa’s bed.

Cissa cleared her throat. Remus looked up at the sound. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell anyone what you saw.”

He smiled, “Sure thing.”

When she was embarrassed, Cissa’s likeness to Sirius was emphasised. _ Sirius. James. _

“Anyway—Cissa, listen. Sirius and James are crazy.”

“That is unfortunately the case, yes.”

“No, no, you don’t understand. They’ve been acting really weird recently.”

Cissa’s hand froze. If Remus wasn’t Remus he wouldn’t have noticed. Unfortunately—because ignorance is bliss—Remus _ was _Remus, and Remus did notice, and Remus knew then, because Remus was Remus, that Cissa was hiding something.

“What do you know, Cissa.”

Cissa smiled at him, her face a mask.

“Oh come off it, you lovely bint,” Remus said.

“I haven’t a clue what you’re on about.”

“Cissa.” Remus frowned. “Don’t lie to me.”

“They haven’t said anything to me.”

“No manipulating words either.”

“Awe, you’re no fun today, Remus.”

“I’m always fun, you jealous toad.”

“Hmm. That’s true, I retract my statement.”

“No changing the subject either.”

Cissa stopped speaking then, opting, instead, to stare at Remus for a while. 

“Sirius,” she began “Has a huge, embarrassing crush on you.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Cissa.”

Cissa looked straight at him. “I’m telling the truth.”

“You’re Sirius, are you?”

“Absolutely Sirius, yes.”

“Cute. Okay, explain their behaviour. They’re driving me up a wall.”

Cissa sighed in exasperation. “Why are you so bloody difficult to fool.”

Remus grinned.

“Merlin fuck, Remus. Don’t do this to me.”

“What can possibly be that bad?”

Cissa looked at him with clouded eyes—it made her look cold and untouchable. Then, she blinked, and the Cissa that Remus loved, and whom Sirius loved (and whom Lucius loved as well) was back. “You know what, let’s play some exploding snap.”

“Cissa—”

“Nope. You’re young, you’re beautiful. I’m calling the girls, all of us are going to play exploding snap.”

Cissa summoned her communication mirror. Remus spent the rest of the evening playing exploding snap with a bunch of pretty, fourth-year Slytherins.

Remus really did love being distracted sometimes.

* * *

“Why are you two behaving like freaks?” Snape gave Sirius and James a hard look.

Lily, who was standing to Snape’s side, furrowed her brows, as if she was trying to figure something out. James—the lovable but foolish plonker—was therefore currently broken.

Sirius stomped hard on James’s shoe.

_“Eek—”_

“Let me rephrase,” Snape gave them both a distrustful sneer, “Why are you two freaks behaving even freakier than usual?”

Sirius scowled and looked around the courtyard, where they’d been very rudely ambushed by Scary Red and her Creepy Minion. The Creepy Minion who was, by the by, spending a disconcerting amount of effort and time trying to figure out something which was _ none of his business. _

“Look, Snape, I know I’m the handsomest bloke you ever saw, but all this attention’s getting a tad disgusting, so—”

“Black—just shut up and explain why you’ve been trying to drive Remus crazy.” Evans interjected.

Sirius called upon his inner Black and bared his teeth in a way which just barely resembled a smile. “Crazy with what? Love? I can _ hardly _be blamed for being the object of his infatu—”

Snape scoffed. “As if Remus would ever like _ you.” _

Sirius lost his grip on the slippery hold he’d had on social decorum. “Listen here you snivelling snot-ball, I’m an absolute god, why _ wouldn’t _ Remus like me? What do you even _ know _about Remus to make the assum—”

“I know that he’s got a brain, and can see past your overrated appearance—”

“—ption that he wouldn’t like me. You _ fucking dimwit, _ I’m a fucking _ catch—_”

“He’d never be able to stand you, you arrogant, self-absorbed berk. Have you ever—in your entire life—cared about anything more than yourself—”

“I CARE ABOUT JAMESIE HERE MORE THAN MYSELF, YOU UNCULTURED NINCOMPOOP—”

“—honestly, all you can do is get angry and shout, it’s a miracle, really, that he hasn’t gotten sick of you—”

“It’s a bloody miracle he hasn’t gotten sick of _ you, you depressing dunderhead. _ One of these days you’re going to be scouted to be a dementor in Azkaban, because just _ looking at you is equivalent to the kiss of death—” _

“Wow, good insult there, hope it didn’t hurt your brain too much to think of it. The only reason Remus wastes his time with you is because he’s too kind to tell you to _ piss the fuck off—” _

“What the fuck do you know about Remus? Nothing, that’s what. You know _ rats-arse _ about Remus—”

“I know more than _ you, you conceited—” _

“What’s his favourite food, then? What toothpaste does he like to use? How many freckles does he have on his face?”

“Chocolate. Merlin’s mint. The last one’s absolutely absurd, how’s anyone meant to know—”

“HA! _ HA! _ It’s seventy-six! I know him better than _ you, you absolute loser. We’re better friends than you’ll _ ** _ever _ ** _ be.” _

James put a hand on Sirius’s shoulder, “Uh. Mate. How do you know how many freckles Remus has on his face…?”

“I counted them on Tuesday.”

“Ah, while he was sleeping?”

“Yeah.”

Snape and Evans exchanged a significant look. Snape was spluttering. _ What a pathetic piece of shite. _

“You’re such a fucking _ freak, _Black.”

“Oh, shut up, Snape, as if you’re not.” James snapped.

Sirius tried, very hard, to put all the love in the world into the look he gave James.

Evans took a deep breath and held out her hands in a gesture of peace. “Listen, we’re not here to fight. I’m sorry about Sev,” Snape’s pathetic spluttering exacerbated, “He’s a bit awkward sometimes. We just wanted to talk.”

Evans bit her lip. James, thank Merlin, was irritated enough to not be affected by it.

“Great way to ‘just talk’, Evans.” James said.

Evans winced, “Uh, yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, Potter.”

James gave Evans an annoyed look. Sirius was proud that ‘annoyed’ was a rather fetching expression on him—it brought out his dark brows and chiselled features.

“I’m not the one you should be apologising to.”

Evans’s eyes widened momentarily. Then, she nudged Snape. When he remained silent, she sighed. “Sorry, Black.”

Sirius could appreciate the way that she looked straight at him when she apologised, unashamed to admit her mistake. Before he realised what he was doing, he grinned at her, “All’s good, my friend.”

Lily smiled back.

“We’re worried about Remus, and we suspect you both know something.” Snape blurted.

Surprised squeezed Sirius’s heart. He gave James an imperceptible glance.

_ Sirius: Fuck. _

_ James: Fuck, indeed. _

“I know a lot of somethings, Snape. To which of these somethings are you referring?” James asked, calmly.

Snape darkened. Lily put her hand on the back of his elbow, and turned to speak. “We’re worried about Remus. We love him too,” she paused and softened her tone, gazing at the floor, “He just—he seems so—so sad… and so tired.”

Sirius didn’t trust them. He couldn’t name_ why. _ Maybe it was the fact that Remus was close to them as well. Sirius hated sharing, after all. “Well, that’s certainly very kind of you. James and I must be on our way now, _toodeloo!”_

Evans grabbed Sirius’s arm as he attempted to turn away. “Black—Sirius, please.”

James gently took hold of Evans’s wrist and pried her off Sirius. “Evans, you’re going to have to talk with Remus yourself. We don’t know anything,”—_Merlin_, the handsome plonker was a terrible liar—“And even if we did, telling anyone—without consulting Remus first—would be the last thing either of us would ever do.”

Sirius was reminded once again of how much he loved James. Even with hair the definition of a catastrophe, he looked like a right hero. Sirius smiled to himself.

“Ri— right. Right. Haha. Sorry about that.” Evans yanked her hand out of James’s, “Well. We’ll see you around, I guess.”

“Huh? Lily, what are you o—”

Lily grabbed Snape by the sleeve and pulled him, complaining, out of the courtyard.

Once he was sure they were gone, Sirius turned back to James, only to catch him staring at his hand. The same hand which had held Evans’s wrist.

“Awe, you soppy sod.”

Even James’s dark skin couldn’t hide his blush. Sirius ruffled the creature that James called hair.

Together, they made their way to Minnie’s room. James knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Sirius threw the door open. There was no time for niceties—not that the relationship between Minnie and Sirius was one that relied on formal bullshit like _ niceties—_the full moon was a week away.

“Professor!” James said.

Minnie sighed, long and hard. “What.”

“We’ve discovered that we want to be Animagi, teach us!”

Minnie narrowed her eyes at them both and flicked her wand. The door behind Sirius and James slammed shut. “No.”

Sirius exchanged a glance with James. _ Time for plan B. _

“Whatever you’re both thinking, the answer will unequivocally be _'N__o'.”_

Sirius walked forward, thinking of the most upsetting things he could think of. The wreck that was his relationship with his parents. The fact that Reg _ still _ refused to speak to him. The fact that Reg seemed to follow Snape around, as if _ Snape _ was his brother. The way Bertram the Big-Headed Bastard looked at Remus, as if Remus was made of the stars themselves. The way Remus blushed, when he pretended he couldn’t tell that Bertram (the _ Fucking _ Big-Headed Bastard) was doing so. The way Sirius couldn’t sleep at night sometimes, wondering if being raised without love had fucked him up somehow, if the anger he felt, twisting and throbbing deep in his gut, would ever go away.

If that expression on Remus’s face, that one, the one where his eyes would dim and his smile would freeze, meant that Remus hated himself. The fact that Remus didn’t know how much he was loved. That sometimes it almost hurt, to even _ think _ of how much Sirius loved Remus. In a way different to James. In a way different to Pete, or Cissa. In a way that Sirius was too scared to analyse. In a way that Sirius knew—in the back of his mind, covered by layers upon layers of denial—was fragile, and if broken, could never be repaired.

Sirius’s eyes burned, he felt pressure building in his throat, growing unbearable, choking him. He stood at Minnie’s desk, looking down at her, his vision getting progressively more blurry. “Professor…”

Minnie stared at him, hard, for a while. _ Maybe it’s time for plan C. _ Then, Minnie looked away and dabbed surreptitiously at her eyes. _Mission accomplished._

“Sit down, both of you.” her voice was rough.

Sirius grinned, blinking the blurriness out of his eyes. He had a gift. It was the gift to dramatise shamelessly. It had served him well in his thirteen years of life.

James gripped his shoulder gently, “Alright, mate?”

Sirius winked at him. _ All in a day’s work. _Well, not really, but whatever.

“I’d really fancy a biscuit right about now.”

“Just take some, Black.”

“Did you buy new tea?” James asked, reaching for the packaging. His eyes widened as he read the back. _“__Blimey, Professor! _ This is the one harvested by the Dokkaebi in Korea! Holy _ shit!” _

“Potter.”

“Ah, sorry, sorry—_Merlin, _Professor, this is fucking _ impossible _ to get—”

_ “Potter!” _

“My bad, Professor—that’s bloody amazing, though.”

Minnie rolled her eyes. A teapot poured tea into two tea cups which promptly slid in front of Sirius and James. Sirius tried to put all the fondness he felt into the expression he pointed at Minnie. Minnie tried not to smile. James grinned.

“Would you care to explain your sudden interest in becoming Animagi?”

James elbowed Sirius in the side. 

“Partially, pure curiosity.” Sirius paused for a while, proceeding with caution. “Partially, well, we’ve got this friend, yeah? And, well, we thought becoming Animagi would make life easier for him,” Minnie raised an eyebrow, “When he, you know, _ visits his mother.” _

Minnie froze, for about 0.2 seconds. Then, she drank the rest of her tea, leisurely. Sirius picked up his own tea cup. _ No better tea than Dokkaebi harvested tea. _

Approximately nine minutes, twenty-eight seconds later (Sirius was _ not _counting) she looked James and Sirius in the eye, “I take it Lupin has taken it upon himself to divulge the nature of his visits?”

Sirius refused to meet her eyes. James scratched his elbow.

“Right. Take a biscuit, Potter, Black.”

They took a biscuit.

“...Becoming an Animagus is no easy feat. It requires dedication. It can take months, _ years _even, just for your Animagus form to materialise.”

James took another biscuit. Sirius noticed Minnie had bought _ more _ double chocolate biscuits. _ For a certain dimpled Gryffindor, perhaps? _He smiled.

“It is _dangerous._ Do you hear me, boys? You could be stuck in a half creature-half human state for the rest of your lives. You have to register with the ministry, as well. It’s inconceivable that the ministry will grant permission for two arrogant twelve—”

“I’m thirteen.” Sirius muttered.

“—For two arrogant _ children _ to become Animagi. It is completely unthinkable. You’d have to keep a mandrake leaf in your mouth for an entire month. An entire _ month.” _She looked at James and Sirius. “I cannot help you. It goes against my position as a responsible adult, and your head of house. It is dangerous. You are both children, and despite how invincible you may believe yourselves to be, you are not impervious to life-changing accidents.”

Sirius’s spirits sank. James leaned forward in his chair, “Professor. We’re both aware of the risks.”

Minnie gave him a look over her spectacles.

“We’re both aware of the risks _ now.” _he amended.

“Professor—Remus, he needs us.” Sirius looked straight at Minnie, then.

“It’s non-negotiable, both of you. I won’t risk one student's life over another. I’ll look into this matter myself.”

James looked at her incredulously. “You can’t seriously think that he’ll feel more comfortable with _ you _there.” Minnie glared at him. “Professor.” he added, hastily.

Minnie set her jaw and opened her mouth—doubtlessly to kick them both out. Her patience, as always, was running thin. 

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, “Professor, we love you, all of us do, you know that.” Minnie closed her mouth. A muscle in her jaw twitched with effort. “But some things are just better with your friends around. Remus has this thing against people seeing him vulnerable—”

“And I assume you believe he’ll be alright with _ you _seeing him vulnerable.” Minnie stared at him, coldly.

Sirius refused to flinch.

“Professor, you have to understand.” James began, running his hands through his hair, “It’s different. We’re kids, yeah? We’re going through the same things as him. Well, mostly. You’re an adult. He can’t relate on that personal level with you.”

Minnie’s nostrils flared. “This is _ non-negotiable—” _

“We love him, Professor!” Sirius near shouted. His patience was running thin as well, now. “We can’t just watch him suffer through this alone! Each full moon he comes back with new scars.”

Minnie sighed in exasperation. “As touched as I am by this display of loyalty, this is outside of your abilities. No means _no.”_

James and Sirius glanced at each other. _ Plan C, it is. _

“You know that we’ll teach ourselves, regardless of what you say.” James began, smiling.

Minnie suddenly looked very old indeed. Sirius felt bad, but then again, he didn’t, really. They brought entertainment to her life.

“Be prepared for expulsion, then.”

Sirius grinned at her, wickedly. “Oh Professor, you underestimate our abilities so. How juvenile, to leave _ evidence.” _

James leaned back in his chair and stretched an arm across the back of Sirius’s.

“Hubris is the downfall of all men. You are welcome to try.” Minnie said, coolly—leaning back in her chair, as well. Sirius felt respect down to his very core.

“Was that a challenge, Professor?” asked James, smirking crookedly.

Minnie’s eyes flashed dangerously. “More like a promise of complete and utter demise.”

“That sounds riveting. Tell me more.” Sirius flicked his hair back, carelessly.

“I’m giving you three seconds to get out of my office.”

Seventeen days later, when James and Sirius were in detention (for spitting mandrake leaves at the back of Slughorn’s head, smearing drool over Trelawney’s papers and writing cryptic lupine puns on the walls—amongst other things) Minnie looked at them incredulously. She was making them clean the floor of her office. With toothbrushes. Fairy toothbrushes.

“Tell me, you insufferable idiots, what it is that makes you so aspire to wreak destruction on your surroundings.”

Sirius smiled up at her. James winked. Minnie tried not to laugh, so it was alright, really.

“You’re going to get yourselves very seriously hurt.” she said, worry underlying her words.

Sirius stopped brushing the floor with his micro-toothbrush. “Then teach us, Professor.”

Minnie glared at him. James had stopped brushing the floor as well. 

“Do you have any more of that Dokkaebi tea—”

_ “Shut up, Potter.” _

They stood in silence. It was a stalemate. Well, not really. Minnie was one of the most powerful witches Sirius had ever met. The fact that she humoured them just showed that she respected them as people.

“Read chapters five to eighteen in A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration and write me a two foot essay by Monday.”

Sirius beamed. James jumped up and tackled Minnie, hugging her. Minnie’s eyebrows hit her hairline.

_"Potter! This is highly inappropriat— **Black, do not join in!”**_

It was a wonderful four seconds, with the three of them entangled in a warm hug. Sirius loved hugs.

The four seconds ended when Minnie’s magic pushed Sirius and James off her. She glared at them, but she was trying not to laugh. Sirius grinned.

It was only later, as James and Sirius walked back to their dormitory, and realised that today was Sunday and that it was 10:00 pm, that their matching smiles melted into panicked expressions. 

It was only because they were absolutely _brilliant_ that they both managed to meet Minnie’s deadline. And so started their education on becoming Animagi. 

Little did they know that the confrontation with Remus, regarding his lycanthropy, would happen in a week—long before they learnt how to change into their Animagus forms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All hail the Harry Potter wiki! (Comments are very welcome :) )


	5. Warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****This chapter contains depictions of depression and attempted suicide****

It was the day before the full moon and Remus was tired. Mentally, that is. Physically, he was at his monthly prime. 

Remus could smell mandrake soil on the shoes of a passing first year. His limbs screamed in response. Above all, though, he felt fatigued. Not because of the soil per se, but rather the fact that he could smell it in the first place. His mum had told him that normal people possessed weaker senses. Not in those words, exactly—his mother was careful with the way she phrased things.

Remus couldn’t even tell if being able to smell the bloody soil was abnormal. Maybe everyone could smell the soil. Or maybe, most probably, only he could, because it was a special gift given only to monsters. For Remus, abnormal was normal. He didn’t know where his monster ended and he began. Perhaps he had never begun at all, perhaps he was only his monster.

Maybe he really was soulless and evil. Psychopath’s never know that they’re crazy, after all. Why would an evil person know that they’re evil? Exhaustion yawned and sank deeper into Remus’s bones.

Remus began to walk faster, and then faster, still. He wished, dearly, that he could turn off his mind. It was dangerous to have thoughts. It was _ more _dangerous—for everyone around him—that Remus was alive.

He felt hot. Too hot, way too hot. _ That can’t be right, _ some part of his mind whispered, _ it’s snowing outside. _

But it was hot. Hot, hot, hot. Remus began to sprint up the stairs. His lungs burned. Too hot, too hot. Not hot enough, not nearly, _ nearly, _ hot enough. Too many things were happening around him, even though nothing was happening at all. There was a strange chaos everywhere, and Remus couldn’t tell if it was something which he had made, or if it was something which existed outside of himself. And it was so_ hot._ And yet, something in him screamed for more heat. The stairs flew behind him, gravity didn’t exist. 

Remus crashed into the unbroken air at the top of the Astronomy Tower.

And then there was calm. 

And then, there were tears. Silent tears, hot tears. Always too hot, always too bloody hot, these days.

Snowflakes fell gently from the skies. Wandering, floating. Masking everything in white. It was quiet in a way that only undisturbed nature can be. A tender silence. _ How ironic, for the world around a demon to look so pure. _

Tears, salty tears.

Remus wished then, that he had never been born at all. He wished he’d never caused his parents grief. He wished he’d never loved them, he wished he’d never loved anyone. 

_ It hurts. _ And it did. It hurt unbearably. _ Has anyone in the world ever felt this much pain? _ More tears, always silent. Frost bit his face. And still, it was too hot.

Remus wished that he deserved love. He wished he was capable of evoking love in other people. And then, Remus didn’t wish at all. There was no direction to his feelings, after that. Everything in the world was submerged in an ocean, where all light was refracted, and all sound was muffled. There was no definitive cause, just the ache. And where had it come from? Why was it here? There were no answers, just exacerbating sensation.

_ Something’s wrong with me. I’m a monster. _

Remus wished privately, in his heart, that he would die.

Snowflakes continued to fall. In their midst, a sole, lonely boy. 

The world moves on, regardless of anything.

The boy closed his eyes, hoping that when he awoke, he would no longer be himself. How foolish sadness makes us all.

The heat faded, and Remus drifted to a place far nicer than the inside of his own mind.

**.**

**.**

.

* * *

When they found Remus, he was half frozen. His breath was faint and his skin colder than ice. Nonetheless, he was alive. Barely. 

His lycanthrope biology had protected him. 

James cried. Minnie’s voice went hoarse. And Sirius? Sirius felt his heart break. Not once. Not even twice. But infinitely. Everlasting and all consuming. 

Sorrow and fear so poignant that Sirius forgot himself in it.

And then, it was the full moon.

* * *

The pain of transformation. Bones, hair, skin.

Pain, pain, pain. Human.

Human. _ Human. Human. Human. Hum— _PAIN PAIN.

PAIN. ** _PAIN PAIN PAIN _ ** **_PA_**_**IN—**_

* * *

Cissa’s expression broke. Her hands were a breath too slow when covering her face.

Behind the doors, they could hear the screams, and then, Dumbledore’s spell. 

The moon had come out early tonight.

* * *

.

.

.

.

_Peace, for the first time._

.

.

.

.

* * *

Hope came in screaming, her hair wild, and her eyes even wilder. 

Closely behind her, Lyall.

They cried, both of them, when they saw Remus, now human: pale, thin, and still unconscious.

Hope turned, making eye contact with Sirius and James. She ran towards them and hugged them to her chest.

She didn’t feel like magic. She felt like love, instead. 

Behind them, Cissa stood—tired and grey but forever regal. She moved, so as to introduce herself. Hope met her gaze and pulled her into the hug.

That was the first time that Sirius saw Narcissa Ara Black cry.

He couldn’t be blamed, then, for bursting into tears himself.

* * *

.

.

.

.

.

“Remus, how did you get up there?”

.

.

“I…ran”

.

.

“Remus—Remus! Why were you up there?”

.

.

.

.

“...Why?”

“Yes, why?”

.

.

.

.

“It was hot.”

.

.

“...Is that the only reason?”

.

.

.

.

.

.

“No.”

.

.

.

“...Remus…”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“I wanted to kill myself.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

**.**

A warm hand around his own, and the smell of books.

**.**

**.**

**.**

His mother was here.

Remus opened his eyes, slowly. His mum was asleep next to his bed, holding his hand.

Vague memories flashed through his mind. There was a heat, a chill, and then pain. The heat and chill were gone, but the pain remained—curled inside Remus’s chest and throbbing under the surface, lest he forget it’s existence.

Hope’s hand tightened around her son’s. She held him as if she had decided she was never letting go.

Remus began to cry. “I’m sorry…”

Hope’s eyes opened blearily. When she saw Remus, her face shattered, “Remus, my son, my baby—”

She hugged him fiercely. Remus tightened his fists around her sweater and sobbed into her shoulder. Her chin rested gently on the top of his head, and her warm body shook with emotion.

“My baby, my baby,” she whispered into Remus’s hair. Her voice trembled.

His mother was here. Remus couldn’t put into words what he felt. All he could do was cry, and hug her back.

Eventually, Remus pulled away.

She looked awful. Dark circles created sunken holes under her eyes, and her skin seemed to emanate a grey pallor.

Remus took her face in his hands. “Mum… I’m sorry… _ I’m so sorry…” _

Her eyes, blood-shot and puffy, began to tear again, “What would I have done without you, my son, my child—”

“I’m sorry for making you sad, mum, I’m so sorry, please don’t cry, please,”

“No, Remus, my baby, I love you so much, if anything had happened to you—” she broke off as a sob wrecked her entire body. 

“I’m sorry—”

_ “Stop bloody apologising.” _

Remus cried in silence then.

Some time later, he sensed his father entering the room. A warm hand stroked his hair. “Remus…”

The panic in Remus’s throat began to dissipate.

After a while, when the panic had fully gone, and Hope had entered his bed—tucking her cold feet under his much warmer ones—Remus registered his hunger.

Coincidentally (or perhaps not coincidentally at all), Madame Pomfrey entered the room.

After running some quick diagnostic spells, she gave Remus a huge block of chocolate and pat him gently on the back. Her eyes, when they looked at him, were undecipherable.

The chocolate helped with the pain. Not much, but enough. His parents helped with the pain as well. For a while, Remus enjoyed the tranquility.

McGonagall entered the infirmary. There were no comments, no questions. She spoke to Remus as she always did: in a calm, contained manner. They spoke about the holidays (close, but not close enough), about the weather (cold, miserable), and the school work he’d have to catch up on (a charms essay). Throughout, Remus was polite enough to ignore that McGonagall’s eyes were red-rimmed. 

“—Black! Po— POTTER! It’s outside visiti— _Narcissa! _ **_SIRIUS BLACK! Don’t test my pat—_****_” _**

McGonagall and Remus closed their eyes as one. Then, Remus’s eyes flew open. _ Do they know? Do they kn— _Hope covered her son’s shivering hand with her own.

““Remus!”” Sirius and James ran into sight. Pomfrey had a handful of their robes in either hand. 

“Remus—” James’s voice thickened, “Remus,” he said, again, with tears collecting in the corners of his eyes.

Sirius strained against Pomfrey’s hold, “You’re awake,” his face was red with emotion. He strained against Pomfrey even harder, “Let _ go, _you horrible toad,”

From behind them, Cissa walked up to Remus’s bed. She sat at Remus’s side and put a hand on Remus’s cheek. “How are you?” she whispered, her expression vulnerable.

Hope’s hand tightened around his own, briefly. Then, she got out of bed. “Lyall, Professor McGonagall, let’s give them their space for a while. Will you be alright, Remus?”

Remus hesitated, then nodded. Hope leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

McGonagall turned to Pomfrey, “Poppy, I think in this particular instance, Black and Potter may be exempted from breaking school rules.”

Pomfrey released Sirius and James. Momentum carried Sirius to the foot of Remus’s bed. James joined him, shortly after.

Then, Lyall, McGonagall and Hope left. Pomfrey busied herself in the far corner of the room.

A heavy silence descended around Remus. It seemed they all had much to say, but none of them knew how or if to start. Remus has surmised, with almost absolute certainty, that they knew of his lycanthropy. _ How _ they did, he hadn’t a clue, but it was without a doubt that they knew _something. _

Panic threatened to awaken inside his chest. Remus had to focus very hard on controlling his breathing. He thought of his mother, of her warm hand on his own. Then, he thought of everyone’s concerned expressions. If they knew (which they probably did), and they were worried about Remus regardless, it probably meant that they didn’t much care about his lycanthropy. And if they did, they cared about Remus far more.

A strange calm descended upon Remus. _ Perhaps, it’s alright if they know… _

The heavy silence persisted for a moment longer.

“Remus,” Sirius began, uncertainly. “Wh—”

“We kn—” James started.

“It’s alr—” Cissa opened her mouth.

_ This is ridiculous. _

“I’m a werewolf.”

Silence. Less heavy this time. More stunned.

Remus felt panicked laughter threatening to escape. He swallowed. Once, twice. Then a third time.

James cleared his throat. “Uh, mate—don’t be mad—um, we know.”

“And it doesn’t matter to us.” Sirius had moved closer to Remus. “You’d be you even if you were a talking orange.”

“What my idiot cousin is trying to incoherently express, is that we love you regardless.”

Remus felt the pressure of tears behind his eyes.

“If it makes you feel better, Cissa goes through her own monthly transfo—”

_ “Sirius Black, I dare you to finish that sentence.” _

James cleared his throat again. “I know it must be a shock—”

“I knew that you knew.”

James blinked.

Cissa raised her eyebrows. “Since when?”

“Since about twenty minutes ago.” Remus pressed the palm of his hand to his eyes—forcing back the tears. Then, he looked up, smiling ruefully, “Honestly, I should have figured it out earlier. A lot of things make sense now.”

Sirius moved to enter Remus’s bed. “You’re okay with it then?”

Remus laughed. “Of course I’m not. I’m fucking terrified that you know I’m a monster—”

_“““You’re not.”””_

Remus laughed again, more softly, more watery, “You’ll make me cry.”

James moved to enter Remus’s bed from the other side, “You’ve made all of us cry.”

Cissa was staring at him silently. “Never do anything like that ever again.”

Sirius moved closer to him under the covers. “I thought I would die.” he whispered. “I didn’t know what I would do. I truly thought that this would destroy me. I never wanted to leave your side—”

“McGonagall had to stun us to get us to leave.”

“We all returned in the invisibility cloak, anyhow.”

Remus wiped his cheeks. “Why…”

“Why, what?” asked James.

Silence. And then: “Why do you love me…”

Cissa said, voice strangled, “Why do you ask?”

“...Because I can’t believe it…”

Sirius sunk further into the covers and covered the top of his face with his hands. “Do not question m— our love, Remus. There is no reason for it. I can’t put into words the reason why I love you. I just do. There’s no logic to it.”

“Then you must be—”

“Do _ not _doubt my love for you. It exists. It would have existed, regardless of anything.”

Remus realised his cheeks were wet again. “I could hurt you—”

“Big deal. Anyone could hurt me. You’re not special, Remus Lupin.”

James smiled, “You’re special in other regards, Remus.”

Cissa huffed and began to climb into the overcrowded bed. _ “You, _ hurt _ me? _ Don’t underestimate me, Remus.”

It was Remus’s turn to sink into the covers. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Sirius turned to face him, “for what?”

“...For loving me…”

Sirius moved closer still, until their noses were almost touching. His grey eyes were soft as he smiled gently, “Don’t thank me for something I can’t help.” 

Remus could feel James on his other side, and Cissa just beyond Sirius. Remus was glad to be alive, if only to live this moment right here. Warmth enveloped him as his eyelids grew heavier.

* * *

Poppy Pomfrey chuckled to herself as she glanced over to see four sleeping kids tangled amongst each other on a single bed.

In the quiet room, as a winter storm raged outside, the sole sound was soft snores. And then, the soft shutter of a camera.

Remus smiled in his sleep. He dreamt of warmth.


	6. Life Continues (And Sirius Is Deflowered).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have no idea where this chapter was going. But, well, here you go.
> 
> (side note: I thought Bertram Aubrey's name was Aubrey Bertram, and now I have to go edit while simultaneously crying tears of frustration)

While buttering his toast, Sirius wondered if werewolves could smell sexual desire.

He wondered out of _ academic curiosity, _ of course. Despite what several _ very annoying _ people seemed to think.

Remus had chocolate spread on the corner of his mouth. History predicted that his tongue would swipe out and lick it away in _ four… three… two… one. _

A wet, pink tongue emerged from in between soft, red lips. It licked, slowly, languishingly, at the brown smear, leaving a wet trail behind. It licked again, glistening, pliable. And again. A low heat surged in Sirius’s stomach.

Something stomped, hard, on his foot.

Sirius turned to scowl at James.

_ James: You’re drooling. _

_ Sirius: Fuck you. _

Anyways. Sexual desire.

Sirius cleared his throat. Remus, the Betrayer, continued to speak to Marlene and Evans.

Sirius cleared his throat louder. Peter looked at him, nervously. James rolled his eyes and reached for a croissant. Remus continued to speak to Marlene and Evans. _ What are they talking about? _

Sirius cleared his throat yet ag— 

“Okay. Black. We get it. You want attention.” Evans snapped.

Sirius grinned. “Not yours, love,”

Marlene’s eyes glinted wickedly. “Mmmm, anyone’s in particular?”

Sirius smirked. “Any other time, I’d say yours. Unfortunately, I need to speak to Remus.”

Evans grinned. “Maybe Remus doesn’t want to speak to you. Ever thought of that?”

Sirius scoffed. “Everyone wants to speak to me.”

“Ah, but you’re not interested in _ everyo—” _

“ANYWAYS. Anyways, Lily-darling, I saw you at quidditch practice the other day.” Sirius said, smiling with all the vitriol he possessed. 

Evans flushed. They were both thinking of how Evans had tripped and spilled popcorn all over Slughorn’s lap when James had wiped his sweaty brow using his quidditch shirt—exposing an expanse of tan stomach.

Evans glared at Sirius. Sirius winked back. _ Evans - 43; Sirius - 44. _

Then, Evans smirked. Sirius felt sudden trepidation.

“Ah, yeah, I saw you as well. Great trick you did, at the end.”

Blood rushed to Sirius’s face. They were both now thinking of how Sirius had nearly fallen off his broom when Remus—who’d been sitting beside Evans, for reasons beyond Sirius’s comprehension—had dropped his hat behind him, and had had to bend down, arse in air, to retrieve it. 

_ Evans - 44; Sirius - 44. _

Evans and Sirius lived in a constant state of Mutually Assured Destruction. Not that there was anything in particular to Destroy. Sirius continued to butter his toast. Evans sipped her morning tea.

Beside Sirius, James perked up. “Did you see _ me, _ Evans?”

Evans schooled her expression and turned to James. “You were there?”

Ha! _ HA! ‘You were there?’ _

James grinned. “Yeah, I’m the seeker—”

“I can’t recall anything in particular.”

Sirius noticed Remus had his hands over his face. That was his Exhausted Pose.

“Merlin, Evans, how can you not remember _ me? _I caught the snitch like seven times!”

Evans looked at him in irritation. “Guess you weren’t noteworthy enough.”

James stretched his arms above his head and grinned at Evans, lazily. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Evans scowled further. She looked genuinely annoyed. “James Potter.”

“Lily Evans.”

“You’re a fucking narcissist.”

“And you’re fucking beautiful.”

“I know already.”

“Good, you should.”

Sirius caught Remus’s eye and bit his lip, trying not to laugh. James and Evans were both idiots.

James smiled and leaned forward on his forearms. “Go out with me, Evans.”

“No.”

Remus rolled his eyes and made a face at Sirius.

“Why not.”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Stop lying to yourself.”

_ Yeah Evans, you horrible troll. Stop fucking lying to yourself. _

“Get over yourself, Potter.”

Sirius acquiesced that James did indeed need to get over himself. On principle, however, Sirius glared at Evans.

Remus, the official peace-maker of Gryffindor, reached across the table for the orange juice. Remus didn’t even like orange juice. He preferred pumpkin. Sirius scowled at Evans. Remus had to drink orange juice now—just because Evans was what the Japanese Muggles called a _ tsundere. _

(Sirius loved muggle culture.)

“What were you saying before?” Remus asked, looking directly at Sirius.

Sirius’s heart stuttered. _ Right. _

He looked around surreptitiously. He couldn’t ask Remus about the werewolf sexual desire thing right here. _ Think Sirius. Think! _“Alejandra asked me to have sex with her.”

_ Great. G R E A T. _

Remus laughed, startled. “Alejandra Cervantes? The fourth year Hufflepuff?”

Sirius’s face burned. “Yeah.”

“She’s really nice—she let me borrow her quill when mine broke in the library.”

“Uh, yeah.” Sirius thought of the curvy fourth year, her golden skin and red-brown hair.

“Well, that’s great, mate.”

_ Wait what. _

“What.” Sirius said, intelligently.

Evans smirked. Marlene laughed into her fist. James wheezed suspiciously. Sirius elbowed him hard on the side. James wheezed genuinely, then.

“What.” Sirius repeated.

“What, what?” Remus looked at Sirius as if _ he _ was the one being absurd.

“Do you think I should sleep with her?”

Remus frowned at him. “Uh, I mean, if you want to. Do you not want to, Sirius? Don’t feel pressured into doing something you don’t want to do.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to.” Sirius said.

Remus kept frowning, “Uh, great, then go for it, mate. She’s super nice.”

“You think I should sleep with her.”

Remus put down his stupid orange juice and sighed. “I think you should do what you want to do.”

_ I want to kiss you. _

Sirius jumped with guilt. No. No. Remus was his mate. This, though. This hurt, a bit.

“Great. I’ll sleep with her then, shall I?”

“Why do you keep asking me, you plonker.”

_ Because I want you to say no! Say no, Remus! _

“Hahahahhahahahhahhaha. No reason. No reason at all. I’ll go then. Sleep with her. Great. She’s nice. Hahahahhaah. I’ll go shag her then.”

Remus exchanged a glance with James. “Okay mate, you do that.”

“Hhahahhahahaahhahahahaha.”

Evans smiled at Sirius, evilly. _ Damn it, Evans, I’m going to find James the sexiest, most kindest girl in the entire world. And then, I’ll make sure you’re invited to their wedding. _

“Bertram’s looking at you.” Evans said, to Remus.

Sirius turned his head towards Ravenclaw table and glared at Stupid Fucking Big-Headed Bertram. Bertram, The Fucking Stupid Big-Headed Moron, was too busy staring at Remus to notice. Sirius’s fingers itched to hex the life out of him.

Remus blushed. Correction: Sirius’s fingers _ burned _to hex the life out of Bertram.

“Bertram’s a fucking weirdo. He stares at everybody.” Sirius spat.

Marlene grinned at him. “Now, that’s not true at all.”

“It is.”

Evans sipped her tea. “I think he fancies you, Remus.”

Sirius wanted to throw a pile of eggs at Evans. “He doesn’t _ fancy _ Remus. Nobody _ fancies _Remus.”

Evans, James, Marlene, Peter, Olliver, Giselda, Ying Li, and Anita turned to look at Sirius.

“Nobody _ fancies _Remus.” Sirius repeated, glaring at them, daring them to say something.

James looked at him.

_ James: You’re a fucking idiot. _

_ Sirius: Shut up. _

James sighed and turned to glare at everyone who was looking at Sirius. Slowly, eventually, everyone looked away again.

“That’s not true, Black.” Evans said. _ Bloody Evans. _

Remus blushed harder. Sirius wanted to throw a stick of butter at Evans’s smug face.

“Yeah? Name one person.” _ Mutually Assured Destruction, you crazy bint. _

“Bertram Aubrey.” 

Sirius scowled. Remus’s face was entirely pink, and he was so mortified his dimples had emerged.

“Bertram,”—_The Fucking Big Headed Moron—_“doesn’t fancy Remus.”

Marlene was laughing helplessly. “Tell us, Sirius, why Aubrey _ wouldn’t _fancy Remus. Half of the bloody year fancies Remus.”

Sirius’s scowl deepened.

“Actually, you know what? Why don’t you give us a first person account of why someone wouldn’t fancy Remus.”

“What does that even mean.”

“Tell us why _ you _don’t fancy Remus.”

Sirius began to sweat. “Uh, I—”

“You _ don’t _ fancy Remus, right?” Evans asked, playfully.

Remus was looking at Sirius, with his honey eyes. Sirius’s heart was running a marathon.

“Of course I don’t. Remus is my mate.”

“So tell us, Black—why you _ don’t _ fancy Remus.”

_ Why do bad things happen to good people. _

“Well. Remus is my mate—”

“BEEP. Not a valid reason.” piped Marlene.

Sirius swallowed. “Remus… Remus… He dresses weirdly. He wears cardigans,” _ which look fucking adorable on him. _

“BEEP. Not valid. They look adorable on him.” Evans chimed.

“He… he… he has no sexual appeal.”

James and Evans burst into laughter. Marlene, who was already laughing, began to laugh harder. Even Peter began to giggle.

“Gee, thanks, Sirius.” Remus said sardonically, looking at him.

Sirius’s heart skipped a beat. And then one more, when Remus refused to stop looking at him.

“Don’t take it personally mate,” Sirius dearly wished his mouth would stop working. “Not everyone can be like me.”

James had progressed to the stage where his laughter had become completely silent and he looked like he was being _c__rucioed_ or something.

“Remus, you gonna take this kind of shite from Sirius?” asked Marlene, wiping her eyes.

Remus—who was trying, painfully, to drink his glass of orange juice—looked up at her good-humouredly. “‘Course not.”

“What’re you going to do about it, Remus Lupin?” Marlene asked, pitching her voice lower, making it more sultry.

Sirius looked at Remus, Remus looked up at him from below his dark lashes. He smiled, filling his cheeks with dimples, and raised an eyebrow—the one with a faint scar across it. A sudden montage of images, including all the things Remus could potentially do, flashed through Sirius’s mind. Heat throbbed in his stomach. His heart beat faster.

Sirius glanced down at Remus’s red lips. He wondered if they felt as soft as they looked. 

A caramel curl fell across Remus’s forehead.

“I’m going to walk up to Sirius…” Remus began, his voice low, deep. Sirius felt every tremor in his pants, “...I’m going to put my hands on his chest…” Sirius couldn’t look away, “...I’m going to trail them, slowly, up…” Sirius’s head was spinning. Everyone was quiet, “...up…” If this was a dream Sirius never wanted to wake up, “...trail them up to his neck…” Sirius could feel the burn of phantom fingers, “...and then…” _ and then? _ “...And… then…” _ and then? _ “......And………….thennn…………” _ and then? And then?! _“And then I’m going to squeeze the fucking daylights out of his arrogant body.”

_ Oh yessss, squeeze the fucking daylig— wait what. _

“What.” Sirius said, cleverly.

Evans laughed so hard she fell out of her seat. Remus grinned.

Sirius snatched the glass of orange juice out of Remus’s hand and downed it in one go. Then, he stood, looked imperiously down at everyone (calling on the Black family genes, once again), and walked away without a word.

Thank Merlin his robes were loose enough to hide his stiffy.

* * *

“James.”

“Yeah?”

“What did I say.”

_ “‘James.’” _

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Awe, Remus—you’re no fun today.”

Remus looked down at James from the magic net he’d been caught in. “I’ll show you fun, you stupi—”

“Eek! Sirius’s dying!” Peter squealed. 

Remus turned abruptly. Directly behind him, in the magic net, Sirius’s face was rapidly losing colour. The net had somehow gotten tangled around his neck.

“Euueeeegghhhhhh!”

“Shite, Sirius, who told you to go and get yourself killed,”

Remus closed his eyes. “This is _ your _ fault James. _ Your fault.” _

“Hey! Don’t blame me for Filc—”

“Shut the _ fuck _ up, James. We’re here because _ you _lost the fucking bet with Mikage.”

“I wouldn’t have lost if Peter had kept it toge— woah, mate, Sirius, you’re not looking so good.”

“EEUUUUUUUUURRGHHHH!”

Remus rolled his eyes and moved towards Sirius, extending his arm to pull at the tangle of net around Sirius’s neck. Sirius wheezed as the pressure lifted off his throat.

For a few moments they all watched as Sirius gasped his way back from near-asphyxiation. His arms—in the panicked struggle when they’d initially been caught—had somehow been restrained behind his body.

Eventually, Sirius stopped wheezing and turned a grey-eyed glare at James, Peter, and then Remus. He looked like an angry puppy—Remus had to try very hard to stifle a smile.

“I could have _ died.” _

James grinned at Sirius. “And yet you didn’t. I’m counting this one a win, lads—”

“And yet _ I COULD HAVE, YOU MASSIVE WANKER!” _Sirius glared harder.

Remus couldn’t help his snort of laughter. Sirius turned to glare at him. Somehow, they’d both ended up closer then they’d been before. Sirius’s alabaster skin had begun to redden in a lovely, angry manner. 

Remus glanced at Sirius’s long, pale neck and exposed collar bone. Remus knew people who would willingly marry a troll to see Sirius like this. Remus’s animal stirred, vaguely. Sirius’s eyes widened, the mercury in them twisted. Remus’s animal stirred, again. He frowned. _ Wh—_

His instincts screamed. In his attempt to move away from Sirius, his foot caught in a hole.

The magic net glowed and began to tighten. Everything jostled furiously. Remus threw himself forward and pulled at the loop of net still loosely wrapped around Sirius’s neck.

One of Remus’s legs was shoved in between Sirius’s, while one of his arms got stuck between the press of their bodies. Remus’s face was restrained, buried into the side of Sirius’s soft neck.

Somehow, Remus’s life-saving action, along with the tightening of the net, had resulted in Remus and Sirius being tightly bound to each other.

Remus swallowed the urge to scream, opting instead to sigh. Loudly.

Sirius stiffened against him. Belatedly, Remus realised he’d just sighed into Sirius’s neck. The sharp smell of sexual arousal began to radiate off Sirius. _ Well then. _

_ Wow. _

_ Well. _

_ This is mortifying. _

“What are you doing,” Sirius asked, voice strained.

“Sorry, mate.” Remus’s voice came out muffled against Sirius’s skin.

The smell of sexual arousal grew stronger.

“Stop talking, Remus. _ Please.” _

Remus cursed his fate for putting him in situations such as this one. Sirius having a hyper-sensitive neck was so bloody typical of the tragic series of events which was Remus’s life.

From somewhere below them, James was laughing.

Remus tensed the muscles in his back and strained against the net, pulling backwards off of Sirius’s neck, and giving himself _ just _enough room to turn back to glare at James, _"F__uck you.”_

Of course, this only made James laugh harder. Peter giggled.

Remus heard a loud gulp and turned back to look at Sirius. Their noses touched in the process.

Sirius’s embarrassment was hilarious. Or it would have been—if Remus was a simple spectator rather than _ part of the bloody spectacle. _

Sirius’s eyes crossed slightly as they looked into Remus’s, his nose scrunching as he focused.

Below them, James and Peter continued to laugh.

Remus and Sirius both turned their heads to glare.

“Okay, okay, hold your panties—Hahahaha—”

_““James.””_

“Alright, alr— pfffttt—okay, _ Finite Incantatem!” _

Nothing happened. Remus’s neck cramped and he was forced to drop his face back onto Sirius’s neck.

Sirius shivered. 

Remus could cry. All Remus asked for was one day. _ One bloody day of peace. _

But noooooooo. James had to go lose a stupid bet, and now they were all on the fifth floor, at 2:32 am on a Tuesday night—Wednesday morning—_whatever! _

James coughed. “Uh, I’ll go get help… you guys just… hang around, I guess—pfffffftttttttttt,”

Remus had run out of energy to care. He let himself sag against Sirius’s stiff body. Sirius let out a strangled noise in response.

“Oh shut up, you massive drama queen.” Remus said, as he heard James and Peter walk away.

“Remus, _ please, please stop talking.” _

“Just bear with it, loser.”

Remus tried very hard to ignore the strong smell of sexual arousal in the air.

“I can smell it, you know.” he said, softly.

For a second, Sirius didn’t reply. And then: “...Smell what.”

“Shut up, Sirius. It’s a natural response, it’s fine.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Okay, fine, whatever.”

Another brief silence.

“I shagged Alejandra.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “That’s great, mate.”

“...Yeah.”

Another silence.

“It was nice.”

“Uh, okay.”

Silence, again.

“She licke—”

“Oh my god, Sirius, TMI,”

“Tee-em-eye?”

“Uh—Too Much Information.”

“Muggle?”

“Muggle.”

“Nice.”

Silence.

“So,”

“Sirius.”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up. It’s fine.”

“Okay.”

They hung in silence.

Thirty seconds later, Remus felt Sirius laughing against him.

“What?”

“We’re hanging around.”

Remus was embarrassed to find himself laughing, helplessly, as well. “What a terrible joke,”

“What do you expect, really, from James,”

Sirius sounded like he was smiling. Remus smiled in response, turning his face further into Sirius’s neck and inhaling the scent of him under the dirt, sweat, and sexual arousal.

_ “Remus!” _

Remus turned his head away, “Merlin, your neck’s crazy sensitive,”

“........Yes.”

Sirius was holding himself stiffly, once again.

“Sirius. We live amongst teenagers. I smell sexual arousal all the time. Literally, all. The. Bloody. Time. It’s fine. Johnny over at Slytherin gets off on mermaids.”

“Mermaids?!”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Wait. Is that… legal?”

“I think so—they can express informed consent and all,”

“Huh. Mermaids…”

“Yeah.”

Sirius’s body lost some of it’s tension. Remus smiled. They hung in peace, for a while. The magic net swayed idly from side to side.

“Hey, Remus…” Sirius began, gently.

“Yeah, love?”

“Are you ever going to tell Peter…?”

Remus winced and then said, softly, “How do you think he’ll react?”

“He loves you, mate.”

“He doesn’t even know me.”

“‘Course he does, Remus. You’re you, before you’re anything else.”

Remus hesitated. “You really think I should tell him?”

“Yeah. And honestly?”

“Yeah?”

“Honestly, I think you should tell Snape and Evans too.”

Remus winced, again. “I can’t, Sirius.”

“Sure you can.”

“They’ll hate me.”

Sirius moved closer to Remus, like he was hugging him. “They could never, Remus. I promise.”

Remus dug his face further into Sirius’s neck.

“Telling them is _your_ choice, though. Don’t feel compelled to do anything you don’t want to do… I just thought it’d be less exhausting for you, if the people you were closest to knew,”

Remus exhaled, shakily. Sirius kept close to him. They stayed like that for a moment. And then two.

“Sirius?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For being you,”

“Ah, yeah, I’m the best.”

Remus laughed softly.

Then, he heard soft footsteps in the distance. “They’re on their way,”

A moment later, McGonagall’s voice called out. “I’m tempted to leave you both like this.” 

“You don’t mean that,” Sirius said, slightly panicked.

“I think you know very well that I do.”

“I think you’d be bored without us,” Sirius replied.

“I think I’d stop aging prematurely without you.”

Remus grinned and turned his face, so that he could meet McGonagall’s eye, “Better to burn than to fade away, I’ve heard.”

McGonagall did her very best not to smile. “Lupin, I would say I’m surprised but that would be a lie.”

Remus grinned wider. “I missed you too, Professor.”

“We saw each other at dinner.”

“Uh, Professor, do you mind?” piped Sirius.

“Yes, actually.”

Remus laughed.

Five minutes later, when Sirius’s pleading had worn McGonagall’s stubbornness down, she freed them from the net.

“Black, Lupin, Potter, Pettigrew—”

“Yeah, yeah, detention tomorrow, got it.” Sirius rubbed the side of his neck.

McGonagall narrowed her eyes. “Fifteen points from Gryffindor.”

James raised his eyebrows, “Only fifteen?”

“Fifteen points _each.”_

James grinned, “Good to know you’ve still got it, Professor.”

“Get out of my sight.”

When they were back in their dormitory, getting ready to sleep, Remus called out to Peter, “Pete?”

“Mmmm?”

“Uh, I’m a werewolf,”

“Mmm—Wha!?”

“Uh, yeah. Those monthly visits to my mum? Yeah…” 

“Uh... Wow. Um. Actually, that explains a lot.”

“Yeah.”

“Uh. Wow.”

“Mmm,”

“Wow.”

“Pete. Remus. Shut the fuck up.”

_ “You _ shut the fuck up James, you’re the reason we’re up in the first place.”

“Uh, Remus?”

“Yeah, Peter?”

“Do James and Sirius know?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“...You told them before me?”

“...I’m sorry, mate… they kind of found out…well, I mean, I guess technically I _ did _tell them...”

“...”

“Awe, Pete, I’m sorry, alright?”

“...It’s okay. Thanks for telling me.”

“Thanks for listening.”

“Merlin, go to bed!”

And then they went to bed.


	7. It's quidditch, mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know rats-arse about Quidditch — thank the lord for the Harry Potter wiki.
> 
> Also: It's bloody hard naming mob characters.

Hundreds upon hundreds of stars in the ink black sky, and silence.

“...”

A comforting silence, like a confidante. Ah, and the breeze—how it blew—not soft by any means, but—romantic, maybe.

“...”

The stars. Innumerable, and shining in a chaotic harmony. There—over there—to the side, shining brighter than them all.

_ Sirius. _

“...em…”

And no moon. No. Only stars, and the breeze. Oh, and the silence.

Yes, the silence. How it spoke, how it permeated the mind and took over thought.

“...mu…..ke…” 

And there was nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Just peace. So perhaps there was something after all.

“.....emus….wa….p” 

How lovely this something was. The loveliest somethings of them all.

“Remus. Wake up.”

Hmm… This new something was considerably less lovely.

“Remus. Mate. Wake the fuck up.”

This new something was the least lovely of all the somethings. It was quite possibly the most horrid of all the somethings… Yes. This new something was the worst. The absolute worst.

Remus looked up at the stars. Millions of lightyears away, and seemingly the closest things in the galaxy.

“REMUS.”

Remus sighed. This new something needed to behave itself.

“REMUS REMUS REMUS REMU—”

Remus closed his eyes. 

When he opened them again, he was disappointed to find that hazel eyes had replaced the night sky.

Remus shut his eyes anew and let the stars envelope him once more. There they were—chaotic lovelies.

“Fucking MERLIN!”

Remus felt hands around his ankles. The stars waved goodbye. Remus waved sadly back. _ Till next time. _

“REMUS—CIRCE—REMUS GET _ UP! _ WE’VE GOT A QUIDDITCH MATCH, YOU _ PROMISED!” _

Remus awoke, bad tempered, on the stone floor. Sirius stood above him, James to his side, and Peter a short way off.

Stars danced in the corner of his mind. They were so _ close. _Maybe…

_ “AGUAMENTI!” _

Cold water slapped him in the face. Remus gasped as all the pleasant blurriness sharpened abruptly.

“Remus. Have you joined us?”

“Sirius Black.”

“That is my name, yes.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“He’s awake, lads.”

James threw a pile of clothes at Remus’s face. “Get dressed. We have to get there early.”

Remus got dressed.

* * *

Sirius glanced at Remus as he was dressing. Not because he was a _ pervert. (Merlin, James) _

_ (Ok, fine. Just a little, though.) _

Vaguely, Sirius felt a tad guilty. He looked away.

Then, Sirius’s eyes glanced back. Involuntarily. _ Completely involuntarily! _

Merlin. The freckles. And the scars. 

Oh god, the _ scars. _

Sirius cleared his throat. Remus was his _ mate. _ Platonic. _P L A T O N I C._

Because Sirius felt that he was being creepy (and Sirius Black was _ never _ creepy. Sirius Black was the epitome of _ suave), _ he turned away. 

(Not before getting a <strike>pleasant</strike> _accidental_ eyeful.)

James smirked.

* * *

“Ten galleons that Slytherin wins,” said Lily.

Remus looked at her. Lily’s green eyes, defiant, looked back.

“There’s no way Slytherin’s going to beat James AND Sirius.”

“Ten galleons, Remus.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Fifteen galleons for Gryffindor.”

“Fifteen, it is. You guys betting, Peter, Sev?”

Peter shook his head, “No,” 

Sev looked up from his popcorn, “Nah Lils, there’s no way Slytherin’s going to win.”

Lily sniffed. “What a shoddy Slytherin you are.”

Sev stuffed popcorn in his mouth and grinned. Around them, students were taking their seats.

“Lupin.”

Remus turned his head to meet McGonagall’s gaze, “Morning Professor, how’re you doing?”

“We’ve no time for formalities. Tell me, Lupin, how do you feel about commentating the quidditch match?”

Remus blinked. “Sorry?”

McGonagall gave him an annoyed look, “Commentating. Keep up.”

“What about Joy? Isn’t she the one that usually commentates?”

“Achebe’s taken ill this morning. _ Are you willing to stand in as commentator or not?” _

“Um…"—_why not—_"Yeah, okay.”

“Great. Get up there. We’re starting the match in ten minutes.”

Remus got up and began to make his way to the scoring stands.

“Oh, and Evans?”

“Yes, Professor?”

“5 points from Gryffindor.”

“Wha— sorry?!”

“For gambling.”

Remus strongly suspected McGonagall had overheard Lily bet against Gryffindor’s win. He suppressed a smile. McGonagall was such a quidditch nerd.

“Wait, Professor,”

“Snape.”

“It’s Gryffindor versus Slytherin today, you’re going to need two commentators.”

“And who, pray tell, are you suggesting?”

Sev went a bit pink, “Myself,”

McGonagall eyed Sev and then looked towards the quidditch field, casting a quick tempus. “Come along, then.”

Sev grinned back at Lily and Peter, who both looked a bit baffled by this sudden change of events. Then, Sev hurried his way to Remus and they all, including McGonagall, made their way to the separate scoring stands.

Once there, McGonagall quickly briefed Sev and Remus on what was to be expected of them. Then, she cast a _ Sonorus _ over them both and gestured for them to begin.

_ Um, _thought Remus, in a particular burst of eloquence. He exchanged a panicked glance with Sev, who had pursed his lips in constrained worry.

The entire school was here, decked out in their house colours: Yellow, Blue, Green and Red. There were flyers everywhere and a general atmosphere of bloodlust. Out on the field, Madame Hooch was prepping the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams. James and Sirius were standing side by side, in front of Lucius. _ Purposefully antagonising him, _Remus suspected, quelling a laugh.

On the Slytherin stands, Remus could see Cissa sitting amongst her group of beautiful people. Below her, Sirius’s little brother, Regulus. Remus blinked, Regulus was squinting up at the scoring stands. _ Hmmm…. _Remus smiled to himself, glancing at Sev.

McGonagall cleared her throat and repeated her gesture impatiently. _ Well, whatever I guess. _

Remus inhaled calmly—_how do I start?—_and began. “Witches, wizards, and other mage-folk, we are gathered here today—”

“—To mourn the dearly departed—”

“Funny, Sev. Anyways, Gryffindor versus Slytherin.”

McGonagall huffed a breath of laughter. “Lupin, you have to introduce yourself.”

“I’m Remus Lupin, second-year Gryffindor, rather unwilling commentator—”

“Lupin, behave yourself.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’ve been corrupted by James Potter and Sirius Black—yeah, the ones on the field right now, waving like lunatics—hi James, hi Sirius. Good luck, lads. You too, Lucius, good luck—”

“You realise you have to choose a side, yeah? You can’t just wish both sides good luck,” Sev chimed.

“Ah, really? Is that how it goes? That’s kind of rubbish—”

“Yup.”

“Oh, We haven’t introduced you yet—go on, then.”

“Severus Snape. Apologies for Remus’s rather trying commentary, it’s his first time—”

“It’s your first time too—”

“That sounds dirty—just kidding, Professor—just a joke, Black, calm down,” Sirius had swivelled his head abruptly toward the stands.

Remus looked skywards, “Anyway, I suppose we have to introduce the two teams now. On the Gryffindor side we’ve got—drum roll please—oh sorry, that’s a Muggle thing, forget it—”

"The players take hold of their brooms—”

Remus took a deep breath, “—And push off,”

The players flew into the sky, towards the game plane. 

Sev squinted up at the moving figures. “Oooh, there’s Potter—what’s that on his head? Oh, it’s just his hair—”

Remus laughed, “You look great, James.”

“I’m sorry that you’re blind, Remus.”

“Stop antagonising him on purpose, you pillock.”

“Yeah, yeah—Potty flies above the game plane—hmm… not a bad strategy—”

“He’s at a good vantage point,” Remus frowned, suddenly, “Wait, James, you’re not playing seeker, you’re chaser—yeah, go back down you giant numpty—”

“Merlin, today’s off to a great start—” muttered Sev, sardonically.

“Mahala McGonagall—the _ actual _Gryffindor seeker—takes James’s place—as I was saying, it’s a good vantage point—”

“She’s a strong player—”

“Takes after her aunt, our lovely transfiguration Professor.” Remus smiled at McGonagall, flashing his dimples.

McGonagall’s countenance remained unchanged but Remus could tell she preened. Remus smiled wider. 

“What’s Black doing?” Sev asked, furrowing his brows.

Remus looked up, “On the far side of the plane, in front of the goal post, we’ve got Sirius—flying circles? Sirius, mate, the game’s about to begin—”

“—And on Slytherin’s side, we’ve got Lucius Malfoy—”

“You’re doing great, Molpod—um, maybe tone down the bloodlust a bit—no? Okay, you do you—Madame Hooch opens the box…there go the balls—”

“—All players fly to attention, Hooch takes the Quaffle in her hands—throws it in the air—”

The tension in the air grew palpable. Despite his apathy towards the sport, the hair on Remus’s neck stood on end.

“The game begins—”

“—Oof! And Slytherin takes the quaffle—nice, Reina.”

A loud sound resounded as a bludger promptly collided with Reina Gordhin.

“—Oh _shite," _McGonagall glared at Remus, “Sorry Professor—oh Merlin, that must’ve hurt—”

“Mastier, you fiend, why’d you go for her face?!” Sev snarled.

“And the quaffle’s in Gryffindor’s possession—yeah, James!—Whoo, he dodges a bludger—mate, that was brilliant—slips past Fischer—zooms straight ahead—shoots! 10 points for Gryffindor!” A girly roar arose, sharply, from the stands. 

Snape growled in frustration. “Wake up, Ji-eun! What are you doing?! Letting Potty—”

“Shut up Sev—don’t mind him Ji-eun, you’ll get him next time—” James turned a wounded look at Remus from the game plane, “Uh, I mean, I love you James—”

“Slytherin starts with the quaffle—Annelise takes possession—passes to Reina —”

“—passes to Lucius—back to Gordhin—back to Annelise Fischer—Gordhin—Lucius—Merlin, what’s all this passing about?”

Sev, who was leaning over the railings, pointed expressively at Mastier. “Ha! Mastier, try bludgering them now!”

Remus took hold of Sev’s robes and pulled him backwards, towards safety. “Oh wow, that’s pretty intelligent—back to Lucius—and he shoots! Nice, Molpo— _and Sirius blocks!” _Another raucous, feminine cheer. “Sirius you brilliant—”

“See that Ji-eun? That’s how you defend—”

Ji-eun, the Slytherin keeper, swore loudly. Remus elbowed Sev. _“Love _ the hair, by the way, Ji-eun—did you get a perm? Yeah? It looks great—you look pretty—” Ji-eun laughed and blew Remus a kiss. Remus leaned forward to catch it and smiled up at her.

Sev snorted, suddenly, “Black nearly falls off his broom—what a loser—”

And the game continued.

“Lucius has the quaffle—he shoots, again—Sirius is still trying to get his bearings—and it goes in!”

“Nice, Lucius!” Sev cheered.

“10 all.”

Sev shook with laughter. “Pffftttt—don’t worry Black—”

Remus waved his arms at Sirius, in a manner he hoped was consoling, “You’ll get him next time, Sirius—”

“Lupin. Stop confusing everyone.” snapped McGonagall, holding herself and perusing the field intently.

Remus gave her a wry smile. “Right. Well, it’s just a game,” McGonagall glared at Remus, “Woah, sorry Professor, wow—um, oh! Cleo stirs from their vantage point—”

Cleo Malouf, the Slytherin seeker, had turned their broom, surreptitiously. 

“Merlin, is it the snitch—” Sev asked, frantically.

“I don’t kn— over there! To the side! Cleo shoots forward, Mahala close at their heels—”

“—Mahala McGonagall and Cleo Malouf are neck to neck—”

“—And the snitch switches direction. It’s lost,” _ to human eyes. _Remus could see it, shining, above the game plane, “Both seekers look around—”

Back on the game plane itself, the remaining players were respectively engaged amongst themselves.

“Gryffindor’s in possession—come on, you lot!” Sev growled, exasperated, “Takahashi nearly takes a bludger to the face—passes the quaffle to Asiya Khan—”

“Nice pass, Mikage. Asiya zooms forward, past Fischer, passes to James—_oof!—_Interception by Lucius—_OOF!—_Double interception by James!” The Gryffindor stands burst into cheers, adrenaline coursed through Remus’s veins. “What an absolute legend, James Potter—”

James moved rapidly, throwing the quaffle straight through the middle of the hooped goal post. He ran a hand through his hair as he turned towards the augmented cheers, raising his other arm above his head, grinning and exhilarated. Remus smiled.

“—Ji-eun! Again!” Sev moaned.

“20-10 to Gryffindor,” Remus said, still smiling.

“Were you looking at your _ nails?! _Ji-eun! Are you serious—” Ji-eun rolled her eyes at Sev.

_ “Oooookay,” _ Remus elbowed Sev again, “ —Mahala’s spotted something—she pushes forward—Cleo directly above her—Merlin, what a sharp turn—”

“—McGonagall’s nearly hit with a Slytherin bludger,” the bludger flew closely over Mahala’s shoulder, “—FUCK! YOU IDIOTS GOT MALOUF BY ACCIDENT _ OHMYGO—” _Sev screeched.

_ “Snape!” _admonished McGonagall, not bothering to conceal her smirk.

_FUCK, _Snape mouthed, dragging his hands over his face. Remus swallowed a laugh and focused his attention back on the game. “Mahala’s letting go of the broom with both hands—careful, Mahala—she ducks to dodge another blu— she’s got the snitch—she’s got the snitch! Gryffindor wins!”

Noise erupted from the Gryffindor stands—McGonagall’s cheer, the loudest of them all. Remus laughed and gently nudged Sev, who was scowling. He flashed his dimples, placatingly, as Sev looked on, morose.

The players descended on the field. Before they’d properly landed, the Gryffindor team jumped from their brooms and sprinted towards Mahala, tackling her in exhilaration.

“...What’re they making for lunch today, Remus?” asked Sev.

Remus shrugged, smiling, “Dunno, mate.”

McGonagall cleared her throat—the _ Sonorus _ was still in effect. Sev rolled his eyes and scowled.

Remus laughed again, “Gryffindor wins, 170-10—a formidable game, overall—everyone played great—”

“Except for you Ji-eun—” Sev snarked. Ji-eun stuck her tongue out at Sev from the field.

_ “ _Everyone—_including Ji-eun—_played great.” Ji-eun winked at Remus. Remus snorted. A flash of blond hair caught his eye, “Awe, don’t frown Lucius,” Lucius gave him the finger, Remus laughed in response, “If it makes you feel better, your butt looked great—” Lucius had trouble quelling his laughter as he raised his other finger.

Out on the field, Sirius tripped over his own feet.

“Feeling particularly clumsy today, eh, Black?” said Sev, abruptly more cheerful.

McGonagall gave both Remus and Sev a stern look—or tried to, she was still, currently, in the throes of post-win euphoria—_“Finite Incantatem.” _

As the _ Sonorus _ dissipated, Remus grinned up at her. “I take it we’ve both got permanent positions as quidditch commentators now?”

McGonagall hid a smile, “You’re lucky you both don’t have detention. Get out of here.”

Remus smiled, once again, displaying his dimples in all their humble glory, “Sure thing, Professor.”

That night, in the Gryffindor Celebration party, Remus made a slight miscalculation and got thoroughly pissed on Cissa’s elven wine.


	8. Reg's POV: Pensieve-Worthy Memories

_ Come to the Gryffindor party with us, _ Sev had said. _ It’ll be fun, _he had insisted.

_ What a bloody liar, _Regulus thought, mal-tempered and surrounded by a crowd of drunk upperclassmen.

“Cissa.” Reg snapped.

“Hmm?” she hmmed.

“Cissa. This is the worst experience I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“Hmm.” she hmmed.

Reg felt a strong and overwhelming desire to vanish all of Cissa’s stupid, old-lady hair.

“Don’t be angry, Kitty,” Cissa cajoled. “Hmmmmmm….. haveyaseenLucy?”

“What.” 

“Lucy. My Lucy. Lucyush. Pretty, pretty Lucy…” she frowned, “need to… train him…”

“Ugh. Gross.” Reg retched.

“Cissaaaa,” someone covered her eyes from behind, the knuckle of one hand was branded with a thin, pale scar.

_ Remus Lupin. _

“Stop corruptuding The Childrens.”

Lupin’s light brown head shot out from behind Cissa. He scrunched his face as he looked at Regulus. “Are you… a Childrens?” he asked, appearing genuinely perplexed.

Reg couldn’t believe this. “No.” he snapped.

“He’s not a _ Childrens, _ Remus—he’s a Kitty,” Cissa said, her eyes still covered by Lupin’s hands.

“Stop corruptuding the Kitty, then.” Lupin scrunched his nose, again, “Corruptaruming—corrupuharu—corrup—corrupturedin—”

“It’s corrupting, you buffoon.” Reg said, exasperated.

“Thank you, Pretty Kitty,” Lupin smiled at him, and for a moment, Reg was stunned. _ What gorgeous dimples, _ he thought.

Then, he scowled. Turns out the sonnets—written, in secrecy, by Lupin’s fanclub—_weren’t, _actually, hyperbolic. Reg despaired to think he’d been corruptuded—as put, articulately, by Lupin—by their idiocy.

“Kitty.” a voice said, far too close for Reg’s comfort.

Reg turned, only to come face to face with Lupin. Lupin’s large eyes blinked slowly. They reminded Reg of honey—_wait. _Regulus refused to become one of Lupin’s fans. It went against his principles. It was simply too pathetic.

Reg cleared his throat. “Do you mind?”

Lupin smiled. “Not at all, Kitty,” and then promptly put his arms around Regulus.

_ Merlin’s golden arsewipe, is he _ ** _hugging me?! _ **

“Lupin. Get off me. I’m not comfortable.”

“Shhhhhh, Kitty,” he whispered, stroking Reg’s hair.

“Oh my god. Oh my fucking god. Get off of me right this instant, you absolute heathen—”

Lupin laughed into his neck. A shiver went down Reg’s body. He had to try very hard to suppress a blush. _ Impressive Remus Lupin, very impressive indeed. _

“Don’t be sad, Kitty… Sirius misses you…”

Regulus’s entire body stiffened upon hearing his older brother’s name. Sirius? Miss him? _As if._ All Sirius cared about was himself. Anger coiled in Reg’s stomach. He’d not owled, even _one_ bloody time last year_._

Reg had been left alone, for an entire year, with his fucking parents. And Sirius hadn’t owled; he hadn’t cared. Sirius missed Regulus? Reg scoffed, _As if. _ Sirius wasn’t capable of caring for people who weren’t himself. 

Lupin—the fucking weirdo—hugged Regulus tighter. Reg groaned. “Shhhhh, Kitty,”

“I haven’t said anything, you idiot.”

“Shhh… he misses you… so much….”

In a voice colder than ice, Reg said: “I can’t stand liars, Remus Lupin.” 

Lupin continued, sadly, “Oh Kitty, Pretty Kitty… I’m not lying. He misses you so much…” Lupin’s voice became gentler, quieter, almost non-existent, “He pretends he doesn’t, but he does… I know… he loves you so much…”

And the way Lupin said it, Regulus almost believed him. The ice around his heart almost thawed.

Almost, but not quite.

“Cissa. Get him off me.”

“Hmmm?” Cissa hmmed.

“Cissa!”

“Remus!” Cissa said, suddenly. “Regulus—no—Kitty! Lucy! Um… Sev! Reina!—” 

This was, undoubtedly, the worst thing that had ever happened to Regulus.

“Lupin.”

“M’name’s Remus. _ Remus. _ But sometimes,” Remus lowered his tone, conspiratorially, “it’s _ Romelio. _Only in Potions, though.”

“What.”

“Not What—_Remus,” _

“Remus.” Regulus managed to grit out.

“Yeah, love?” Remus sounded as if he was smiling.

“Please get off of me. I don’t like being hugged.”

Remus frowned, “Why are you lying, Kitty?”

Regulus flinched, _ how could he tell? _

_ “Remus!” _hands grabbed Remus’s cardigan and pulled him, rather savagely, off of Reg’s body.

Reg turned to face his saviour, gratitude on his tongue, and froze.

It was Sirius. And he looked… _ Merlin, he looks worried. _

_ “Remus!” _ Sirius said, shrilly, “Fuck. _ Aguamenti!” _

Water splashed Remus square on the face.

“I WAS _AWAKE_ **_SIRIUS CANIS BLACK DON’T YOU DO THAT TO ME EVER AGAIN, DO YOU UNDERSTA—”_**

“Shut _ up, _ you moron!” Sirius scolded—Regulus blinked a few times. Sirius was _ scolding _ someone—“Do you know how _ worried _I was?!”—Regulus gaped—“Who told you to drink Cissa’s liquor?! You look like a right idiot, Remus Lupin.”

“I look like you, then.” Remus said, petulantly.

“Shut up. Just shut up.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I do what I want, Remus John Lupin.”

“My name,” Remus took a deep breath, _ “Is ROMELIO,” _he shouted. Then, he turned to face Sirius, snaking his arms around Sirius’s waist, pulling him closer. “Only in Potions, though,” Remus smiled, nose touching Sirius’s.

Regulus was startled—no—_flabbergasted _ to see Sirius blushing.

_ My brother. Is blushing. _ Regulus pinched himself. Then, just to be sure, he put all his focus into a whispered _ “Finite Incantatem.” _

Sirius was still blushing. _ Merlin’s fucking balls. _

“Remus…” Sirius said, voice strained, barely a whisper. 

_ Oh my god. _ Regulus came to a sudden epiphany.

“Remus…” Sirius repeated, voice a bit stronger now, but eyes still hooded.

“Yeah, love?” Remus leaned forward and rubbed his nose against Sirius’s.

_ This is the part where Sirius confesses his pathetic feelings and they both go off to do inappropriate things in a semi-public location, _Reg rolled his eyes and began to turn away.

Sirius cleared his throat, “You’re a fucking idiot. We’re going home.”

Regulus’s eyes widened to inhuman proportions. _ What the flying fuck? _Reg turned back, bewildered. 

“I don’t wanna.” Remus pouted.

“My sympathies,” Sirius pulled back from Remus, “Now come on,”

“No.”

“Remus.”

“What, loser.”

“Remus John Lupin.”

“Sirius Canis Black.”

“Do you realise how much of a wanker you’re being?”

“Do you realise how lovely your eyes are?” Remus grinned. 

“Wha—” Sirius spluttered, turning even redder than before.

Now this was interesting. Maybe it was worth coming to a Gryffindor party, if it meant Regulus could see this.

Sirius took a shaky breath. “We’re going. Now.”

“Uh, no.”

“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.”

“And I’m not listening, lalalalalala—”

“Remus!”

“—LALALALALALALALA—”

_ “Remus John Lupin. _ If you don’t stop right this moment, you’re never allowed to eat chocolate ever again.”

Remus stopped, instantly, and turned a horrified look on Sirius. “What?” he gasped.

“You heard me.”

Remus moved closer to Sirius, and then closer still—his expression heartbreaking. He cupped Sirius’s face with his hands, “No.”

“Yes.”

Remus’s eyes began to tear up, he whispered, “No.”

“Yes, Remus.”

Remus moved even closer to Sirius, moving his hands down, slightly, towards Sirius’s neck. The tears in his eyes threatened to spill any moment. Reg had begun to feel a tad nervous, himself.

“No, Sirius.” Remus whimpered.

Sirius broke then, “Okay, fine, no.”

Remus beamed—his dimples blinding to mortal eyes—and leaned forward to kiss Sirius’s cheek. Sirius closed his eyes and blushed all the way down to his neck.

Reg couldn’t believe his eyes. What was happening?

“Let’s go home, Remus.” Sirius pleaded. “You’re crazy pissed right now,”

“Hmm… No.”

“Why, loser.” Sirius sighed, “Tell me why. Give me a valid reason.” 

Remus frowned in thought, “We can’t leave Pretty Kitty.”

Sirius scowled, darkly. Now this expression, Reg was familiar with. “Who is that.”

Remus tilted his head to the side, “Pretty Pretty Kitty Kitty… not a Childrens, though.”

“Remus.” said Sirius.

Remus tilted his head to the other side, “Kitty Cat Kitty Cat—”

Sirius threw his hands in the air. Then, in a deceptively calm manner, “Romelio.”

Remus’s entire demeanor straightened. “Yes, Professor Slughorn.” 

“Who is ‘Pretty Kitty,’”

“Regulus Black, Professor.”

Sirius blinked, taken aback. Reg’s heart thud in his chest.

“Where, Remus? Where is he?” Sirius asked, frantically.

“He’s right next to you, Professor.”

Sirius swivelled his head, promptly making direct eye contact with Regulus. Reg didn’t quite know how to respond, after what he’d seen. “Uh, hallo?” he attempted. 

Sirius blinked.

“Professor Slughorn?”

Sirius turned to face Remus, again. “Yes, Romelio?”

“Where’s Sirius?”

“Give me a second, I’ll go call him.” Sirius turned 360 degrees on the spot, “What’s up, Remus?”

“Sirius!”

“Hi,” Sirius smiled, besotted. _ (Besotted! _Reg was still convinced he’d somehow dreamt this entire interaction.)

“Isn’t that great?” Remus grinned.

“Isn’t what great?”

“Reg just spoke to you!”

Sirius smiled, “And here I was, thinking he’d just spoken to Slughorn,”

Remus pinched Sirius’s cheeks, “Don’t be daft, Sirius. Slughorn’s not here.” Remus rolled his eyes at Regulus, “He’s a bit barmy, this one.”

Reg couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing, “Uh, yeah, an absolute weirdo,”

Remus disentangled himself from Sirius and threw himself at Reg, once again. “Pretty Kitty,”

Sirius glared daggers at Reg. Reg laughed harder.

Remus said, gently, “You’ve missed Sirius too,”

Reg’s laughter sobered pretty quickly, after that. 

“It’s okay, Kitty,”

“Get off me, Lupin,”

“Shh… it’s okay, it’s okay…”

Reg felt a sudden pressure behind his eyes. He swallowed, thickly.

“It’s alright, Kitty… it’s alright, Sirius…”

Sirius stood watching them, silently, his face undecipherable. Remus moved away from Reg and pulled at Sirius, until Reg and Sirius were left facing one another.

“You both need to talk.” Remus said, with startling clarity. Then, he let go and moved away—towards Cissa and the couches—leaving the two Black brothers alone.

Sirius scratched his elbow. Regulus cleared his throat. 

“Never in my life did I ever think you’d have a _ crush—” _Reg began.

“I don’t know what you’re on about.” Sirius responded, obstinately.

“Merlin, just stop, Sirius.”

“As I said—”

“Okay, that’s great then, he’s cute,”

Sirius glowered at Regulus. “He’s not _ cute.” _

Reg smirked in response. “Sorry, I meant handsome. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Fit—”

“Stop!”

Reg was the one who glared, then.

“How long are you going to run from your fucking feelings, Sirius?”

His question seemed to carry weight beyond the topic of Remus.

Sirius remained silent. Both of them stared at each other. Regulus fumed. _ Of course. I should have fucking known—_

“I’m sorry, Reg.”

Regulus blinked.

“I’m sorry I never owled. I’m sorry I left you alone with those—monsters.”

Pressure built behind Regulus’s eyes. 

Sirius paused. “I—I don’t know—I fucking hated it there so much—” 

“So did I.”

“But they’ve always liked you better than me.”

A silent look passed between them. What Sirius had said was true, yes, but in that moment, Reg was rendered speechless by Sirius’s startling ability to always make himself the bloody victim.

Sirius continued, “Maybe they’re horrible to you, but they’re horrible because they have expectations of you,” Sirius rubbed a hand over his eyes, “They’re horrible to me… because they hate me…” his voice cracked.

“They don’t hate you—” Regulus began.

“They do.”

Regulus lost his temper, then. “Who knows what goes on inside their warped minds? They’re fucking crazy—maybe they do hate you, so what? That doesn’t explain why you le—”

“Regulus. They’re my parents. As much as I don’t want it to matter, it does.”

Regulus seethed, silently.

“...When I got to Hogwarts—when I learnt what it was like to be—_free—_I just—I distanced myself from them—from everything even remotely similar to them. And in my mind, you,” Sirius paused for a moment, and then continued with a pained look, “You, my baby brother, reminded me of them.”

Reg closed his eyes, his hurt like a fresh wound, _ “How could you—” _

“I’m sorry—”

_ “No. It’s not okay. It’s not okay.” _

“I’m sorry, Regulus. I’m sorry.”

_ “No—” _

“I was running away. I didn’t want to face anything. I’m sorry, I missed you, I’m so sorry… I missed you so much… Reg,” Sirius’s voice cracked, again.

Regulus began to cry.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius began to cry as well.

Regulus didn’t forgive him. Regulus didn’t know if he could _ ever _forgive him. It’d always been them against the world, but Sirius had thrown all that away, the first chance he’d gotten. The betrayal stung, sharply. 

“You’re a fucking arsehole, Sirius,” Reg hissed, quelling his tears.

Sirius winced.

“How could you have left me behind so easily?”

Sirius said, “I thought they’d take my place—”

“You thought bloody wrong.” Reg took a deep breath. “They love me, you say. They don’t fucking love _ anyone.” _He snorted, humourlessly, derisively, “Don’t you know? It goes against pure-blood tradition to have a fucking heart.”

Sirius stepped forward, and for the first time in both their lives, hugged Reg. “I’m an arsehole, I know. I got caught up in my life here, and was all too ready to leave my old one behind. I’m sorry Reg, your brother’s a fucking arsewipe.”

Reg blinked furiously, “I don’t forgive you.”

Sirius chuckled, weakly, “I didn’t expect you to, I like to think I raised you better than that,”

Despite it all, Regulus had missed his older brother unbearably. And so—against his better judgment—Reg hugged Sirius tighter. 

“I missed you, Reg.” Sirius said.

“You’re not allowed to miss me. You’re the one who avoided me for an entire year and then tried to pretend that you hadn’t.”

Sirius winced. “Fair enough.”

Maybe a quarter of an hour later, Cissa sauntered towards them. “Have you relieved yourselves of your emotional constipation?”

Sirius smiled wryly, “I’m afraid we’ve both got haemorrhoids.” 

Reg shot him an annoyed look, “Speak for yourself, Sirius. _ I, _for one, have no problem facing my emotions—“

“Black.” Out of nowhere, Sev’s voice called out.

Regulus spun around. There he was—_Severus. _ Reg scowled. _ Where had he gone? _

“Where were you—” Reg began, irritated.

“Shush, Reg—” 

_ … ‘Shush, Reg,’?! _Regulus glared at Severus. Sev, the wanker, didn’t react.

“Black! Oh _ fuck—_Black, come here! _ Now!” _

Regulus—even _ more _ irritated now—wondered what had gotten Severus so bloody excited. He looked over Sev’s shoulder, and then rolled his eyes. Fucking Circe. Gryffindor parties were the fucking _ worst. _

Behind Sev—on the table—stood some drunken sod. Some _ shirtless _drunken sod. Some shirtless drunken sod who was in the process of taking off his pants—to the cheers of the other drunken sods surrounding him.

_ Buffoons, all of them. _Reg glanced back at Sev, frowning. Some fool was behaving like a fool. So what? Why was Sev so…

Oh. My. God. The shirtless—_almost entirely naked—_sod was Remus Lupin. Merlin, his back was completely covered in scars. Regulus was surprised to find that it was kind of sexy. From the sound of the raucous cheers, he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

Remus smirked down at the crowd—_shut UP you hysterical buffoons—_and unzipped his trousers—_Merlin fuck, who made that abhorrent sound?! Giselda?! What the fuck?!—_Remus let out a throaty laugh—genuine and warm—upon hearing the harpy-like yowl. _ It really is impossible not to like Remus Lupin, _ Reg thought.

Bored with the display of Remus’s impromptu strip show, Reg looked back, and upon seeing Sirius’s face, burst out laughing.

Sirius had never looked more pale in his entire life—and this was saying a lot, Sirius’s skin was the same alabaster as Reg’s. He looked like he’d been Petrified by a Basilisk—and in the most unattractive position possible. Reg’s stomach cramped in mirth.

And then, Sirius’s countenance transformed from on of astonished fear, to one of pure rage. Reg looked back towards Remus. Some second year Ravenclaw had taken hold of Remus’s arm. Remus smiled at the stranger and tousled his hair. 

_ “That fucking Big-Headed Weasel.” _Sirius snarled.

“Stop overreacting.” Reg said, trying to catch his breath from laughing.

“You shut up, Reg.” Sirius snapped, beginning to make his way towards the table.

Sirius looked like an angry niffler. Reg was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe.

“OI, REMUS!”

Remus turned his head towards Sirius.

“Sirius,” he smiled.

From the looks of it, Sirius wasn’t in the mood to be a flustered wreck. Regulus rather thought Sirius was in the mood to be a hateful wreck instead.

“Put your clothes back on,” Sirius threw Remus’s discarded cardigan at his face, _ “Get your dirty hands off him, Bertram so help me—” _he glared at the 'Big-Headed Weasel'.

“I don’t wanna,” Remus pouted.

_“REMUS JOHN_ _LUPIN, I’M NOT GIVING YOU A CHOICE, I’M TELLING YOU TO PUT YOUR BLOODY CLOTHES ON RIGHT NO—_**_ BERTRAM, GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HI—”_**

“You’re so cute, Sirius,” Remus laughed, seemingly unaware of the chaos he had created. 

Next to Reg, Sev said sardonically, “It’s hilarious when you’re not the one who has to deal with it.”

Reg turned back to glare at Sev, demanding answers, “Where were you.” 

Sev narrowed his black eyes, “Curious, aren’t you.”

“Yes. Now answer the question.”

Sev laughed, then. “I was with Lily and Potty,”

Reg was close to stomping his feet. “You _ promised _you wouldn’t leave me.”

Sev looked a bit guilty, then, “I did, didn’t I,”

Reg sniffed, “Where are they, then? The Red-Head and her Potty,”

“He’s not _ her _Potty,” Sev scowled.

Reg felt an unpleasant wave of jealousy. “Why are you overreacting.” Sev looked away. “Do you still love her?” Reg demanded.

“Why are _ you _overreacting?” Sev shot back, “Lily’s my oldest friend, of-course I’m possessive over her,”

“I don’t see them anywhere, maybe after today he _ will _be her Potty—”

“Ugh, Reg, shut up, that’s gross. Potter can’t hold his liquor for shite, he’s passed out in his dormitory—Lily’s with Marlene in the bathroom,”

Something hit Reg, suddenly, “What were you doing down here with Remus, then?”

Sev played with the sleeve of his robe and let his hair fall over his face. Reg scowled, _ he’s trying to hide his blush. _

“Do you like Remus.”

“Everyone likes Remus—”

Reg grit his teeth, “That’s not what I’m asking _ Severus—_do you fancy Remus, or not.” 

“Not.”

He was lying, Reg could taste something bitter in his mouth. “Liar. You do fancy him.”

Sev looked up then, exasperated. “Come of it, Reg—he’s my friend, okay?”

“You like him.”

“No.”

“I bet that’s what Sirius says when you ask him the same question.” Reg shot back, furious.

Gryffindor parties were the fucking _ worst. _

“God.” Sev huffed, “I don’t like him that way, and even if I did, what’s it to _ you?” _

Regulus glared at Sev and turned back to look at the Remus-Sirius spectacle. 

They were both now on the floor, Remus still half-naked, Sirius still a pathetic mess. Although Sirius was trying desperately to restrain Remus, it was obvious to anyone involved that despite his smaller build, Remus was far stronger than he looked. Remus took hold of Sirius’s wrists and rolled on top of him, straddling him casually. A girly cry arose from the crowd, and Sirius blushed deeply. Remus smiled.

Looking at them, Reg made a decision. He could say nothing and end up like Sirius: pathetic, and in a constant state of blue balls. Or, he could confess. Reg scanned through the potential merits of each decision in his mind. He’d be saved from the potential humiliation of rejection if he said nothing, but he’d get nowhere. If he confessed, on the other hand… it’s most likely he’d be rejected anyhow, but his confession would fluster Sev… and once flustered, all it would take is casual flirting for the next few years… Sev would probably figure out what he was trying to do, but that would only fluster him further… eventually, Sev would _ have _to give in.

_ I mean, look at me. I’m gorgeous. _

(And he was, really.)

Reg gave Sev a calculating look. He couldn’t go about it too ostentatiously—Sev would think it arrogant. He’d have to make it subtle—subtle, but _ obvious. _

“...It matters to me,” Reg said.

“What?” Sev asked. He’d been distracted by the Remus-Sirius spectacle himself.

“It matters to me—whether or not you like someone—that’s why I’m asking.”

Sev looked startled. Reg smiled, slightly. _ Good. _

“I get jealous.”

“Wha— wait—Reg, stop fucking with me,” Sev scowled.

_ He’s trying to hide how flustered he is. _

“I’m not. I get jealous.”

Sev looked at him, quietly. Reg blanked his face, years of practice making it completely indecipherable.

“… What are you trying to do?” Sev asked, after a while.

Reg allowed himself a smile then, “I don’t like it when you fancy other people,”

That got him a mildly frightened look and a faint blush. _ Ohh… a faint blush, huh. _

** _“ROMELIO, BEHAVE YOURSELF.” _ **

Reg rolled his eyes and looked towards the Remus-Sirius spectacle.

Remus—still half naked—had restrained Sirius’s hands together with his discarded cardigan and had begun to tie Sirius's hair into multiple small ponytails.

“We’re not in Potions, Sirius, you can’t _ say _stuff like that—”

** _“STOP MAKING IT SOUND DIRTY. UNTIE ME RIGHT NOW—NO, WEAR SOME CLOTHES FIRST—OI! BERTRAM! CLOSE YOUR EYES RIGHT NOW—DON’T YOU DARE LOOK AT HIM WITH YOUR DIRTY GAZE—”_ **

Reg burst into laughter. _ This memory’s going in the pensieve. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been very excited to introduce Reg's character. He doesn't take any shit from Sirius. Well, to be fair, no-one takes any shit from Sirius.


	9. Sirius, you literal cur

The sky emanated a hazy, twilight glow. 

Amongst the darkest, richest of blues, lay inordinate notions of light; irregular bursts which blushed with a lazy shine and highlighted the outlines of the darkening nimbi. A light, that by its very nature, wasn’t really light at all, but rather, a colour less dark than the rest of the sky. Lower down, the wind danced viciously, carrying with it the sound of a low, rising rumble.

All of it, a prelude to a gargantuan storm.

Sirius inhaled the sharp, unforgiving air and felt the taste of rain on his tongue. He grinned.

James glanced at him, a smile tugging at his lips. Peter exhaled a shaky breath of laughter, tightening his hands around his glass flask.

Minnie looked around silently, her brow furrowed in concentration. Around them, the sky darkened imperceptibly. She narrowed her eyes and gave them all a small nod.

Sirius put his wand over his heart. From the corner of his eye, he saw James and Peter do the same.

_ “““Amato Animo Animato Animagus.””” _

Something churned in Sirius’s stomach. His toes curled in anticipation.

“Look out for the first strike of lightning,” Minnie said, calmly.

The churning in Sirius’s stomach exacerbated. His heart beat faster.

“Professor—my stomach—I can _ feel _ it,”

Sirius uncurled his toes. His senses felt sharper alrea—

“What you’re _ feeling, _Black, is flatulence.”

_ Right. _

Peter laughed into the back of his hand. James snorted and extended his palm towards Minnie—receiving but an eye-roll in response. Undeterred, he high-fived himself.

And the illusion broke. 

Sirius scowled, “Does romance mean _ nothing _to you people?!”

Minnie looked skyward. 

“Hey! I’m romantic!” exclaimed James.

Sirius gave James an incredulous look. “There’s a thin line between Romantic and Creepy,” he clapped James on the shoulder, “You’ve been on the Creepy Side of that line since two months into first year.”

James narrowed his eyes in a fruitless attempt to look threatening.

If Sirius was honest with himself, the clouds appeared pretty docile. Any foreseeable lightening was bound to be hours away.

He made himself comfortable on the grassy floor of the Forbidden Forest and continued: “Complimenting someone incessantly doesn’t make you more attractive, mate. Just obsequious.”

Minnie coughed to hide her laughter. Peter, in an uncharacteristic burst of forthrightness, giggled openly.

James joined Sirius on the grass.

“At least I’m _ able _ to compliment the person that I like,” he smirked, "Instead of, you know, borderline insulting them every time I see them.” Sirius heard the two other Betrayers begin to snicker in the background, “I mean, imagine how _ pathetic _ it’d be, to not be able to compliment my crush—to such an extent that I forcibly, and _ very weirdly, _ deny any compliments they receive from _ other people.” _

Sirius cast a _ Protego _around himself and James, encasing them both in a contained bubble. He then, promptly, farted.

“Merlin _ fuck, _ Sirius—that’s _ fucking nasty,” _ James gagged.

_ Serves him right. _ Sirius sniffed. And then threw up a little in his mouth. Maybe the _Protego_ was overkill.

Ah well. You have to suffer to succeed.

James scrambled to get his robes over his nose, glaring at Sirius._“Finigh Incandhadha.”_

“Nice try, mate. But you have to _ enunciate, _remember?” Sirius winked at James.

_ “Fugh you.” _

Sirius raised his own robes to cover his nose, “Neva heardh of thadh spell before, is idh a new one?” 

“Language, Potter.” Minnie said, sighing.

James—who usually, was Sirius’s platonic soul-mate, but was soon to become the bane of his existence—scrunched his face in concentration. Sirius scrambled for his wand, but, alas, it was too late.

James Potter farted into the bubble that his best friend had trapped them both in.

Silent. But, oh so very **_deadly._**

James and Sirius made eye contact with each other over the impromptu masks they had made with their robes. Their eyes teared in a physical response caused purely by the deadly atmosphere they had created.

“Classy, as always, both of you,” Minnie said.

Sirius was too busy trying not to vomit to respond.

Peter—Sirius’s new favourite—took pity, and said: _ “Finite Incantatem.” _

The protective bubble dissipated all at once. Both boys took in gasping, lungfuls of air. Fresh air had never before seemed so sweet.

Minnie—helpful, as always—sighed in an exorbitant and unnecessary manner.

(And people said _ Sirius _was the dramatic one!)

“Hey Sirius,” James said, after he’d recovered from the noxious fumes.

“What.”

“I know what your Animagus form is gonna be.” 

“Yeah, yeah—”

“A worm.”

“Wow. That’s so funny, James. Do you see how everyone’s laughing? Wow. Joke of the century.”

No one was laughing. Except for James.

“I know what _ your _Animagus form is gonna be as well,” Sirius continued.

“Well, out with it,” James said, still laughing.

“A cockroach.”

James and Sirius stared at each other in silence. Then, they both burst out laughing.

“Imagine the fun we’d have as—ppppfffttttt—Wormy and Cocky!” Sirius howled.

“Pffftttt—if I’m Cocky… you’re—pffftt—you’re—pfffffftttttttttt—you’re a fucking _ worm!” _

Sirius doubled over, “Wormy and Cocky take over the world—” 

“Wormy and Cocky meet their irrevocable demise by being flushed down a toilet.” said Minnie, coldly.

Sirius fell on the grass. “Mate, maaatttee! Imagine! That’d be the best way to go—”

James donned a solemn expression, straightening his robes, “Wormy and Cocky: The Last Flush.”

James and Sirius stared at each other in silence, once again.

They then promptly began howling in mirth.

“I really do hope a worm and a cockroach are your Animagi forms, now.” said Minnie, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I’m asking for a refund otherwise!” Sirius laughed

“You hear that, Magic?!” James shouted, pointing like a loon at the sky. “You better make me a cockroach, you hear!?”

Peter had caught their contagious laughter. 

Minnie sighed to herself in defeat, muttering something about pest-repellant potion.

* * *

In one of the second-year boys’ dorms in Gryffindor Tower, it was quiet… 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

… AND REMUS WAS LOVING IT!

** _WHOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!_**

Remus tore off his clothes and jumped into bed wearing only his pants. He reached over the bedside table for his new mermaid thriller: _'__Deep Under The Deep Blue MURDER’ _by Jeramiah P. Lazareth.

_ Sweet Circe, _Remus was excited to be a dork.

He was a chapter and a half into his new book when a knock resounded on his door.

_ No. _

He was seven chapters into his new book when the interminable knocking, yelling and swearing began to get on his nerves.

_ “Silencio!” _

Ah, much better.

Remus was 16 chapters into his new book _ (Priya! Whyyy! Why do the good die young?!) _when someone broke his fucking door down.

Out of the corner of his eye, he registered a shock of red. He looked up, tears streaming down his face, and a self-feeding chocolate pudding halfway to his mouth.

Lily and Sev glared back at him.

_ Oh, Peace… till next time, my love… _

Lily began jumping up and down on the floor. Remus rubbed his face, still mourning the loss of Priya (and his Peace).

When Lily continued to jump, Remus raised an eyebrow. Belatedly, he remembered his _ Silencio. _

Remus sighed and made his way out of bed, stretching his arms above his head. He looked back at Lily and Sev’s silent forms.

And then, he felt a bit guilty. “Uh… sorry about that — _Finite Incantatem.” _

Lily spoke first. “Is that Paddington Bear?”

Remus remembered, even more belatedly, that he was clothed in only his underwear. And that he had chosen, in a moment of poor foresight, to wear the Paddington Bear underwear his mum had bought him last Christmas.

_ Of course. Of course this is my life. _

He covered his face with his hands as Lily and Sev began to laugh.

Remus’s self-eating pudding fed him a spoonful of chocolate dessert.

At least he had his chocolate.

* * *

“Professor, did you bring any of that Dokkaebi tea?”

“Do you think I’m made of gold, Potter?”

James had the good grace to look abashed. “Sorry, Professor.”

“I’m just kidding, Potter—I wanted to see you look repentant at least once in my life.”

Minnie waved a teapot towards James. James grinned back at her.

“Take some biscuits, Peter,”

“Thank you, Black, for offering Pettigrew my Biscuits.”

“Anytime, Professor.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sirius wondered what Remus was up to.

* * *

“So, what brings you two to my humble lodgings?” asked Remus—now fully dressed in his pyjamas.

Lily and Sev glanced at each other.

Remus’s instincts nudged him, slightly. Remus knew then, why they had come. He sighed.

_ I should have told them ages ago. _

Lily cleared her throat. “Well… Remus, we know, uh, that… well, let’s just say that we know what you don’t want anyone to know,” she looked unflinchingly at Remus. Her green eyes sparkled. “And we’re pretty sure Potter, Black and Peter know as well.”

Despite his building panic, Remus couldn’t help his smile. Lily was at her loveliest when she behaved like this: as if the whole world could come fight her, and she’d face them head on.

“And we want you to know…” Sev began, “That we don’t care. We love you, regardless.”

Remus felt pressure building behind his eyes. What had he done to deserve such good friends?

He felt then, that he should warn them off. That he should make them aware, somehow, of how dangerous he truly was. They gained nothing from staying friends with him. They had, indeed, the potential to lose many, many things in the process: their humanity, for one. Under the right circumstances, Remus could very well turn them, thus damning them to a cursed life, much like the one that he lived.

He opened his mouth to speak—the specifics of what, he hadn’t yet planned—but upon seeing their open faces, his voice caught. For the most part, it was due to selfishness—he loved them too much to let them go. Partly, however, there was a memory which arose from a few months ago. In the infirmary, in between the freezing snow and his burning heart, in between his friends, in between Sirius and James and Cissa, in between agony and the promise of eternal peace, he had found warmth. A warmth which permeated gently, deeper than even his bones. A warmth which touched his soul, a warmth like kindness. A warmth which made him wonder if he was worth loving, after all.

“Thank you,” Remus whispered instead, blinking rapidly all the while.

Lily made a strange sob-like noise and leapt forward, tackling Remus in a hug. A few moments later, Sev joined in.

It was only after a while that niggling curiosity pushed Remus to ask, “How did you know?”

Sev laughed, weakly, “Your aversion to garlic, for one—”

“And well, we thought you had on some appearance charms—no-one’s complexion, eyes and hair are so well coordinated naturally—”

Confused, amused, and progressively more horrified, Remus raised his eyebrows.

“—but really, the fact that you ate so many blood lollipops was what made it obvious.” 

Remus looked at Lily, and then Sev. Not for the first time, he hoped his suspicion was the product of an overwrought mind rather than any keen discernment.

“Um, just to confirm, what do you guys think I am?”

Lily frowned at him, “A vampire, of course!”

Sev nodded enthusiastically.

Remus swallowed hysterical laughter. “Um, okay, first off—thank you, I guess, for the compliment—my appearance _ is _ actually, natural. Second off, um… well, what do you guys know about lycanthropy…?”

* * *

“Get your potions in front of you,” said Minnie, “Any second now…”

Sirius stared at the churning, black sky, anxious. _ Any second now… _

“I need to reiterate that you all stay calm. Remember what we practiced. After the first lightning strike, your potion should turn the colour of blood. If it doesn’t, _ do not drink it—_**_do you hear me?”_ **

Sirius felt himself nodding.

“Good. If_—and only if_—your potion turns blood-red, you must recite the _Animagus Incantation_—remember to put your wand over your heart—only then must you drink your potion. If things are proceeding properly, it will begin to hurt, but you must not—and I repeat—**_you must not—_**attempt to fight the pain. Accept the pain—it is part of the transformation. As you begin to change forms, you must concentrate on what your mind is trying to show you—”

“We _ know, _ Professor—” James started, impatient.

“Shut up, Potter. Twenty points from Gryffindor.” Minnie snapped.

Sirius turned to gape at her.

“Don’t make me take points off you as well, Black.”

Sirius shut his mouth and turned back to stare at the sky. 

“As I was saying, you must concentrate on what your mind is trying to show you—only then will you reach perfect harmony—_Pettigrew! Focus! Twenty points from Gryffindor!” _

Peter mumbled a quick apology and stared back up at the sky.

Sirius wanted to cry of frustration. Light precipitation had begun to fall, but the sky was still black. Fucking black, black, black. Like the name of his fucking family. Ugh. Black. Blaaaaa—

_ WHITE! _

A flash of lightning tore through the sky. Sirius’s eyes snapped back to his hands. He held a blood-red potion.

Sirius gulped. _ Shite—what next, _ he placed his wand over his heart, _“Amato Animo Animato Animagus.” _

Taking a shaky breath, Sirius then uncapped his glass flask, and shot back the blood coloured potion.

.

.

.

A black shape.

Slowly, it got clearer, clearer… clearer… until there it was.

A dog.

.

.

.

Sirius was on fire. Every last inch of his body was on fire. Pain so intense that he couldn’t quite remember ever existing without it. His consciousness seemed to dissociate from his body… but the pain… _ fuck… _

_ Fuck… just stop! Stop! Go away! It hurts! IT HUR—_

From somewhere far, far away, Sirius heard a faint voice, _ “D… it! … Don’t fight it, do you hear me! _ ** _DO NOT FIGHT IT!”_ **

Sirius succumbed to the pain then. There was nothing left. Only pain, pain, pain, pain, pain.

And from his mind, a whispered image of _ the dog. _

And then, a sensation from within. A thumping… _ yes… _ a heartbeat… and then another… two heartbeats—out of sync—their beating getting louder, and louder.

And louder.

_ And louder. _

_ The dog. The dog. _

And then the hearts beat together. _ Ba-Dum__, _ _ Ba-Dum__, _ _ Ba-Dum__. _

_ The dog. The dog. The dog. _

And then, the fire vanished.

And then,  _ Ba-Dum__, _ _ Ba-Dum__, _ _ Ba-Dum__. _

_ The dog. _

And then, only one heart… _ Ba-Dum, Ba-Dum, Ba-Dum. _

And then, Sirius opened his eyes.

Everything looked larger. The world had lost some of its colour, but gained so much more in its clarity.

Sirius sniffed the air, _ Minnie? Crying? Is she crying? _

To the side, Minnie was wiping her eyes furiously, Sirius ran to her.

Or tried to. He fell on his face.

Moving his limbs… was different… 

Sirius opened his mouth, _ “Awwoooooooo—” _

His heart raced. He couldn’t ask for help. Sirius felt fear then—what had he done—was he stuck this way forever—_“AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,” _

A hand stroked his fur—_Minnie? _

“Shhh… It’s okay… calm down… get used to your body… I must say, Black, I’m very impressed indeed, fifty points to Gryffindor,”

Sirius closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. _ In…. Out…. In…. Out…. _

_ Thank you, _he wanted to say. He couldn’t speak… but maybe… Sirius breathed in… and then out… and then he opened his eyes.

Minnie looked back at him, her face stern. _ She smells concerned. _

Sirius licked her face.

“Wha— **_Black! That was highly inappropriate!”_ **

Sirius felt like laughing then, he jumped up. And then tripped, and fell.

And then he jumped up again. Only to fall, once more.

The next time, he took his time getting up. Slowly, slowly… there! Yes!

Then he took one step… then another… and another… and then he was running. Faster than he had ever run before_. _The rain on his fur was a tingling sensation. Foliage shot past his face.

_ … James. James! Where are you? Where… _

Sirius stopped running suddenly, and shot his nose—_snout—_in the air. Where was he? Where… 

In the opening stood a red fawn. _ James! _

Sirius ran… ran… and then leapt. A crash of limbs and Sirius stood above James, licking his face. James rubbed his head affectionately against Sirius’s face.

_ “Meoww….” _

_ Minnie. _What had happened? Sirius stood to attention.

_ “Meeeoooowwww….” _

Sirius began running, James alongside him.

What had happened? What had—_Peter! _

_ Peter, Peter, Peter—Oh fuck! _

Sirius ran faster.

Minnie sat at the edge of a fallen log, pawing at a crack.

Where was Peter? _ There! _ Sirius smelt him… but _ where? _

_ “Meow!” _

In the log! But… how?

Sirius registered the sound of a faint squeaking.

It seemed that Peter had turned himself into a rat.

* * *

By the time Remus managed to pry his eyes open, Peter, James and Sirius were back.

Vaguely, Remus wondered where they’d gone.

Because he didn’t really care—as long as they were _ ultimately _safe—he slipped out of bed and made his way to the courtyard.

It was there that he met up with Sev and Lily. They’d had a lot to talk about the night before, but unused as they were to serious conversation, they’d made plans to fool around the next day.

So there they were. The topic, strangely, or perhaps not strangely at all, turned to James Potter.

“He’s so bloody arrogant,” fumed Lily.

“Here, here.” said Sev.

“He’s not that bad, once you get to know hi—”

Lily changed positions on the grass, “You’re not allowed to defend him, Remus.”

Remus smiled wryly, then. “He’s not, though.”

Sev turned to face Remus, “He is, though.”

And then Remus felt compelled, out of his love for James, to defend him. “No, really—his arrogance is more of a joke than anything else,”

Lily gave him a look, “That’s like saying Black’s arrogance is a joke as well.”

Remus sighed, “Honestly? I think it is—I mean, yeah, they’re both self-assured, and yeah, it can come off as cocky at times—” 

Sev scoffed. “At _ times,” _

_ “—but, _that’s just a product of their surroundings—they’ve been told, repeatedly, since they were children, that they’re amazing—and, well, they are, you know? It’s not like their arrogance is misplaced… and honestly, they’re not as vain as they seem. Every time either one of them brings up their appearance when we’re all together, it’s almost always as a joke.”

Lily looked at him in disbelief.

“Awe come on—their arrogance is more… self-love? Uh, maybe that wasn’t the right word… Confidence? Yeah—their arrogance is more over-zealous confidence than scorn. They don’t belittle other people to make themselves seem greater, they just—really, really, reaaaaalllllyyyyyy love themselves—which is a good thing,” Remus ended, smiling.

Sev scowled—he still had a hard time getting over the whole _ Snivellus _ordeal which had occurred in early first-year. “They don’t belittle other people? Black belittles _ you _all the bloody time!”

Remus winced. “I don’t think he means it though, Sirius is kind of weird…” 

Sev continued, “You don’t know that for sure, though,”

Remus looked up at the sky, then. The storm last night had left it almost entirely clear, and all that was left now was an expanse of periwinkle blue.

Remus smiled, “... Something tells me,”

“That’s a load of hogwash—” began Lily.

Remus continued, “Something in his expression maybe, or his actions… maybe the tone of his voice…”

Sev made a face at his hands. Lily remained quiet.

And then, Lily said, “I don’t think he means it either,”

Remus grinned at her, “Who are you talking about?”

“Black.” Then, Lily blushed, beginning to scowl, “Potter, on the other hand, I have no doubt… ”

Sev made a disapproving face at his two friends. “Regardless, they’re both idiots.”

Remus laughed. “Here, here.”

* * *

Sirius—still wearing the robes he’d worn last night—ducked into a crook behind a moving suit of armour. Not the most discreet place by any means, but private enough to suffice, or so he hoped. Sirius cast a quick repelling charm about him, just in case.

Then, Sirius closed his eyes—dearly hoping Minnie wouldn’t walk by—and thought about his Animagus form.

A dog—or really, a puppy.

And then, like breathing, or walking—Sirius changed.

Once in his new form, he slipped out of the crook and ran towards the smell, which even as a human, he knew belonged unquestionably to Remus.

_ He never fully managed to get the smell of berries out of his hair. _

As his paws hit the stone floor, Sirius’s tail wagged.

* * *

Remus heard the commotion Sirius had garnered before he smelled him. So really, this ambush was a typical one.

The commotion, on the other hand, was more hysterical than usual.

“I could just _ eat you up!” _

Like that comment, there. Although not completely unexpected (this was Sirius Black, after all), the tone in which it was delivered was more maternal than anything else.

And this—this tone—this was weird. And so, Remus—who usually ignored the approaching sounds as best he could—felt intrigued enough to turn his head towards the crowd.

_Ah—that’s weird, as well. _Sirius’s tall, black head was nowhere to be seen. But this crowd… the way they spoke, even the things they said… this was undoubtedly Sirius’s crowd. And then there was his smell—Sirius was definitely here.

But, where? Maybe he was wearing the invisibility cloak—no, the crowd wouldn’t be so hyper if Sirius wasn’t interacting with them in some way. Maybe he’d polyjuiced himself into someone else… 

Narrowing his eyes, Remus scanned through the gaggle of girls. _ No, he’s not… _

And then Remus’s eye fell towards the black puppy in the middle of the crowd. _ It can’t be—_and then, Remus’s brain finally registered the unrecognisable smell—which had been following his fellow friends this last month—as the faint smell of mandrake leaves.

Remus smiled.

Sirius, smaller than he’d been before, was revelling in the attention his new form had amassed. Momo, a second-year Ravenclaw, picked him up and held him to her chest. Sirius practically melted into her breast. 

And then, Momo made eye contact with Remus.

“Remus!” she beamed.

“Hallo Momo,” Remus smiled.

“We found a puppy in the halls,”

Remus hid a laugh, “I can see,”

“Here, you can hold him if you like,”

Remus smiled wider, “Can I?”

Sirius practically jumped out of Momo’s grasp into Remus’s open arms, his tail wagging even harder than before. Remus couldn’t quite hold back his laugh. He took hold of Sirius, thinking to himself that if his smell hadn’t given him away, the feel of his fur—so akin to the feel of his hair—would have. His eyes as well—they remained the same quicksilver as always.

Grinning irrepressibly, Remus decided to have some fun.

He held Sirius—who was small enough to fit completely in both of Remus’s hands—above his head.

“So, is it a boy or a girl?” Remus asked, the picture of innocence.

Marlene, who’d been one of the more sensible ones in the crowd, grinned, “Look at his prick and tell me yourself, Remus,”

Remus grinned back, “It was so small it escaped my notice,”

Sev and Lily laughed.

Sirius, in the meanwhile, growled and squirmed in Remus’s hands.

“Awe, size doesn’t matter,” Remus smiled, bringing Sirius closer and rubbing his face against his fur.

Sirius looked up at him with large, silver eyes—the epitome of adorable. He barked, once, and licked Remus’s nose. Remus felt himself blush a little in response, his heart skipping a beat. What an adorable creature.

“What’s your name,”—_Sirius—_“little one?” Remus asked, gently.

Around him, Sirius’s crowd broke out in squeals. 

“We said we found him in the halls—keep up Remus,” Marlene smiled teasingly, depositing herself as close as possible to Remus, “If he’s got a name, we’ve no idea what it is,”

“What about…” _ now what would annoy Sirius the most... _“... Snuffles?”

Sirius growled, nipping Remus lightly on the nose.

Lily rubbed Sirius’s head, “That’s perfect, Remus—awwwww! _ Look _at him!!”

Sirius growled more darkly, baring his teeth at her. 

_“Awwwwww!” _Lily practically melted as she stood, snatching Sirius out of Remus’s hands and hugging him to her, pattering him ferociously with kisses. Sirius continued to growl, but made no move to disengage himself from Lily. Remus bit back his laughter.

“You know, if we’re going to keep him, we ought to look into getting him neutered,” Remus began.

Sev nodded his head, “It’s best to do it early,”

Marlene tilted her head, moving even closer to Remus, “What’s that?”

Remus smiled wolfishly—_perfect question, my dear—_“Castration,”

Sirius yipped loudly and burrowed himself deeper into Lily’s arms.

_ “AWWWWW!” _

“Awe Snuffles, don’t be scared…” Remus smiled.

Marlene laughed, “Your body’s so warm, Remus,”

Sirius’s head shot up. He snarled at Marlene, leaping out of Lily’s arms into Remus’s lap. He made a move to bite her, but Remus held him back.

“Easy there, Sirius,” Remus whispered into his ear. _ Snuffles _stiffened in his hands.

“Woah—Snuffles, my man,” Marlene skirted away from Remus.

Sev wrinkled his nose, “He’s got quite a temper,”

Sirius snarled at Sev.

And that’s when Bertram showed up.

“Remus,” Bertram grinned.

Every time Remus saw him, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. Remus felt his face heat.

“Hi,” he smiled.

Bertram flushed, “I was—er—going to the lake later… would you like to join?”

Remus felt his heart beat faster—_is this a date? _Remus had never been asked out on a date before. He took in Bertram’s nervous smile. Bertram Aubrey: his first friend, maybe his first something more as well. 

Trying desperately not to blush harder, Remus stammered his agreement, “Y— yeah, I’d like tha—_ ” _

“AGGGHHHH!”

The smell of urine permeated the air. Sirius, unrepentant, had peed all over Bertram’s dragon-hide boots.

Remus sighed. “Bad Snuffles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be the last chapter in year 2! But it's not T.T! 
> 
> (Why is year 2 so long T.T T.T T.T)
> 
> I swear the next chapter is the last one in Y2. I SWEAR.
> 
> On an unrelated note:
> 
> Merry Belated Christmas! 
> 
> And if you don't celebrate Christmas: Happy Holidays, instead :)


	10. Stops and Starts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am bloody exhausted and thus cannot vouch for the grammatical accuracy in the latter part of this chapter.
> 
> However — it was loads of fun to write,
> 
> AND SECOND YEAR IS NOW OVER!!!!
> 
> EDIT: It has now been proof-read many many times!

Sirius Black was in the library of his own accord. And although he wasn’t reading, or _ working—_Morgana forbid—he was definitely, _ definitely _ enjoying himself. 

He had Remus all to himself, after all. With the added bonus of no poseable threat in direct vicinity.

Sirius dearly hoped that he was being discreet as he spent the afternoon staring at Remus. If Remus perchance _ knew… _ now _ that, _ that would open up some _ very _ uncomfortable conversations. 

Not that there was anything in particular to talk about. Sirius and Remus were friends.

Their relationship was purely, _ purely _ platonic.

(Sirius had begun to despise the word platonic.)

(What an utterly abhorrent word.)

_ (Humph.) _

Nothing would ever change the nature of their relationship—they would remain friends for all eternity. Granted that Sirius could keep it together.

He’d been slipping recently. Even now, as he stared at Remus and felt his heart bursting, he was slipping, slipping, slipping.

_ … 74, 75… there—76. 76 freckles. _

Sirius wished that they could remain like this forever: Remus working, and Sirius staring at him. Undisturbed, and the entire world just themselves. 

_ The entire world just ourselves. _

No-one else, just them—the smell of parchment, the sound of writing, and the fall of waning light across Remus’s face. The scrunch of Remus’s nose, the curl of his hair, and then his warmth.

Because in his entire life, Sirius had never met anyone who reminded him more of warmth—of love, of kindness, of everything good.

And it hurt. But Sirius didn’t let himself explore why, and perhaps that made it hurt even more.

The tree that had once blossomed in Sirius’s heart had turned into a forest and then a planet. It now existed as a galaxy, where even a singular sigh was capable of causing a wound. The hurt was unbearable, but not entirely unpleasant. Terribly, terribly bitter, but just a bit sweet as well.

And the galaxy, it seemed, was in no hurry to stop expanding. No—this galaxy grew_ and grew _and every day it became more difficult to ignore. 

Thus, the reason why Sirius was slipping.

“What in Merlin’s name does Trelawney expect us to do?” Remus sighed, rubbing an eye with one hand. “How on earth am I meant to divine the future,”

Sirius felt himself smiling, “Just write some nonsense about death,”

Remus looked at him, “The question is _ whose,” _

And then, Sirius wished that they could remain like _ this _ forever—Remus looking back at him, and Sirius helplessly entranced. Eyes like honey, hair like caramel—_do you taste as sweet as you look? _

“Bertram’s?” Sirius volunteered, weakly.

Remus laughed, then. Sirius felt joy—as he always did—that he’d been the reason why.

“Maybe not him, Sirius,” Remus smiled.

And even this, even this horrible feeling—how it grew out of control. Sirius hoped that one day he’d be able to tame it, because one day he’d have to. For the sake of their friendship—or rather, for the sake of an eternity with Remus. Because romance doesn’t last for eternities, but friendship, perhaps, might.

And Sirius would do anything—anything in the world—to remain by Remus’s side. From this eternity to the next, and for all the eternities thereafter.

Because Remus was warmth, and Sirius’s galaxy was ever-growing.

… And Sirius had to stop staring like a loon and say something or Remus was going to think he was weird(er than he thought already).

“Mine, then?”

Remus frowned, “Don’t joke about stuff like that,”

This frown sparked unbridled delight in Sirius’s foolish mind, “Would it bother you that much? I wouldn’t mind terribly,”

“James and I would drag you back,”

“From Death?”

“From wherever, Sirius. As if we’d let you get away that easily.”

“And if you couldn’t? What would you do then?”

Remus frowned more darkly, looking at Sirius with a puzzled expression, “James would probably go insane—”

“Not James—_you. _ What would _ you _do?”

Remus hesitated—and how lovely he looked then—how lovely he looked always. If only this moment could last forever.

“I’d weep, I think?” 

... _ Aaaaand the magic’s gone—_Sirius’s jaw dropped.

Remus continued, “Stop asking such odd things, and don’t joke about this stuff—god, what the fuck am I meant to write—”

Sirius took a deep breath. “What do you mean you’d weep, you _ think. _ What is there to _ think _ about when I’ve just _ died?!” _

“Sirius, shh—”

“You _ think _ you’d weep?! You ** _think?! _**What the flying _ fuck?! _ You’d better weep for an entire bloody century—and what do you mean you’d just _ weep?! _ What does that even mean?! Are you a loser? Is that why you’d _ weep? _Like a loser?”

“Weeping's not for losers—”

“You shut up, Remus. What do you mean _ weep—” _

“Merlin, Sirius—cry, sob, whatever—”

“What do you mean _ whatever?! What _ ** _whatever?! _**I’ve just _ died, you fucking knob—” _

“Unfortunately, you haven’t actually—”

“Unfortunately?! _ Unfortunately?! _Oh my god, you’re trying to kill me off—”

“Sirius, shut up, plea—”

“—so that you can _ weep, _ I’d presume, like a fucking _ loser—” _

“Oh my—okay, fine—I’d mourn you for the rest of my life. Not a day would go by when I wouldn’t think of you. I’d hunt down whomever—or whatever—caused your death, and I’d hurt them like they’ve never been hurt before. Even if I wasn’t capable of hurting them—even if they weren’t capable of _ being _ hurt, I’d hurt them—I’d find a way. And I’d visit your grave everyday with a different flower, until I’d given you all the flowers in the world, and then—god, I don’t know—I’d have lost my mind by then, I think—from weeping—and weeping's not for _ losers, _Sirius—I’d weep unbearably, and I think James would weep as well, and Cissa—”

“Okay. You can stop now.” Sirius’s blush was making him dizzy.

Remus grinned wickedly, “Dramatic enough for you?”

Sirius made a non-committal sound and looked away, because looking at Remus would be the end of him otherwise.

* * *

Remus glanced up from his homework. 

Sirius was looking out the window, drumming his fingers against the table.

_ What a terrible study-partner, _and yet Remus would’ve never preferred another.

Remus didn’t know what it was about Sirius and these moments—when it was just them, and it felt like it truly _ was _ just them. What contradictory comfort lay in the growing intensity.

Was he just imagining it?

Sirius tucked a strand of silky, ebony hair behind his ear. Remus preferred it long-ish, like this—all gorgeous, and wild.

Remus felt his wolf stir—like it’d been stirring, progressively, these days. What was this feeling?

Sirius turned to face the other way, perusing the rest of the library. After a while, he whispered, _"__Wingardium Leviosa.” _

And the very sound made the hair on Remus’s neck stand on end. What a dangerous person Sirius Black was.

With an appearance like a greek god, he was untouchable and terrifying in his beauty. But then he’d smile, as crookedly as always, and it’d feel like he was just barely within reach. 

Sirius was a study in contradictions, and his magnetic pull was frightening in its intensity.

And Remus thought to himself then, that the person who fell in love with Sirius—who _ truly _ fell in love with Sirius—would fall in love with desperate fervor. They’d fall into ruins, and be happy for it.

Remus shook his head. All this thinking about Divination was making him loopy.

Following Sirius’s line of sight, Remus saw what he was doing and sighed. Because _ of course. _

“Sirius.” Remus whispered. 

“Yeah?”

“Put down Slughorn’s wig.”

Sirius glanced over, grinning, “Nah.”

Remus looked back at Slughorn’s exposed scalp and floating wig.

“I can see you trying not to laugh,” Sirius murmured.

Remus forced himself to swallow his laughter. “Shut up—put his wig back—”

Sirius manoeuvred Slughorn’s wig across the room, and slowly, slowly laid it over Pince’s head.

“—Merlin,”

Sirius smirked, “Watch and learn, Remus, my dear,”

Sirius began to itch his elbow. And then his arm, and then his shoulder, and then his scalp.

The students in the tables around them had begun to look over at what he was doing.

_ Sirius, you ingenious buffoon. _

Slowly, a first-year in the table next to them began to scratch his head. And then, like dominoes, it seemed the entire library had caught Sirius’s psychological itch.

Slughorn raised his hand to his head, fingers poised and ready to scratch away. He received quite a considerable shock when he realised his [artificial] hair was missing.

“Sirius—”

“Shhh, Remus,”

Ever the Slytherin, the first thing Slughorn did was perform a locating spell. (Remus wondered, briefly, why he’d foregone an _ Accio.) _

(And then, Remus realised that an _ Accio _would have failed to display who the culprit was.)

_ (‘Culprit’.) _

“Siri—” Remus began.

“Don’t be a bore,”

Remus sighed.

Slughorn’s wig began to vibrate and scream on Pince’s head. And so, like any sensible—or for that matter, unsensible—person, Irma Pince began to shriek.

Slughorn was appalled: _ “Irma?!” _

Pince was extraordinarily _ more _ appalled: ** _“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—”_ **

“Irma! Whyever would you steal my hair?!”

The wig continued to vibrate and scream.

Pince, it seemed, was too preoccupied with the sudden screaming and vibrating creature on her head to pay any attention to Slughorn’s words. **_“—GET IT OFF ME, GET IT OFF ME!”_**

Sirius stood from his chair and said, snottily, “Madam Pince—you’re being terribly disruptive. Shouting isn’t permitted in the library.”

Pince (and Remus thought this was rather amazing) flushed and shut her mouth. 

Slughorn, on the other hand, was considerably less concerned with breaking school rules, and considerably more irritated with his scalp exposed. “Irma!”

Pince turned to look at him, stiffly. “Speak in hushed tones in the library, Horace.”

“Honestly, Professor Slughorn.” Sirius chastised.

Remus bit the inside of his cheek.

“My hair!”

“You’re bald, Professor,” a first-year Gryffindor spoke up.

Slughorn spluttered indignantly.

“What of your hair, Professor?” Sirius asked, the picture of solemnity.

“It—it’s gone!”

Pince lost her patience, then. _ “Speak in hushed tones, or I’ll have to ask you to leave.” _

“Madam Pince!” Sirius exclaimed

_ “Sirius Black, don’t make me—” _

“You stole Professor Slughorn’s hair!”

“What nonsense—”

Slughorn turned to Pince, “It’s on your head, Irma!”

“Wha— Sweet Circe,”

“Explain yourself, Professor!” Sirius exclaimed.

“I will do _ no _such thing—”

“No. He’s right Irma. Why do you have my hair—”

“What absolute nonsense are you spouting Horace—whatever would I do with this cheap wig—”

Sirius gasped—loudly, furiously, and above all, dramatically.

“Madam Pince,” he began, voice shaking with emotion (_‘emotion’—_Remus rolled his eyes) “Are you insinuating Professor Slughorn is _ cheap?!” _

Pince looked startled, “N— no, that’s not—”

“—and _ bald?!” _

Slughorn gasped._“Irma!”_

Pince paled, “Wa—”

Sirius smacked his palm down on the table. _ “How could you, Irma?!” _

Slughorn smacked his palm down on the table. _ “How _ ** _could _ ** _ you, Irma?!” _

(The wig all the while continued to scream and vibrate atop Pince’s head.)

And that is the story of how Sirius **AND REMUS ** were **BOTH ** _ (both!) _banned from the library for the remaining two weeks of second year, the entirety of third year, and the first half of fourth year.

_ “Sirius, you bastard!” _

“Pffffftttt—”

_ “No biscuits for you!” _

* * *

“Awe Remus—I brought you chocolate frogs!”

“Piss off, Sirius.”

Sirius pouted. Remus gave him the finger.

And then Remus took the box of chocolate frogs, so it was alright, really.

“The library’s dull, anyways—”

Remus scowled. “If you keep talking, I'm going to punch you in the face.”

“Ha!” Sirius laughed. “As if.”

“Try me, Sirius.”

“The library’s dull, anyways—” Sirius repeated

“Merlin,”

Sirius smiled. “You wouldn’t hurt a fly, Remus.”

And Remus scowled again. 

_ How can you still look so painfully lovely even as you scowl, even as you’re angry with me. _

Then, Remus made that face—the one that he makes when he’s withholding a laugh.

“Come on, Remus. I know you think it was funny—it’s okay, it _ was _funny—”

“Pfffttt—”

“Pffffffffffttttttttt—” 

They laughed in an unrestrained manner, their stomachs cramping, and tears of mirth collecting in their eyes.

Later, when they’d calmed down, Sirius added that memory of them together—laughing so easily, so intimately—to his list, or rather, amalgamation of reasons why they just… why _ he _ just… _ couldn’t… _ why he just couldn’t _ think _ of Remus _ that way, _ why he just couldn’t… feel about Remus, _ that way—_that awful, awful way… that awful, awful way that was all the more awful because really—really, it wasn’t awful at all.

It wasn’t awful at all. And that’s why it was so bloody—fucking—_awful! _

Remus looked over at Sirius, and Sirius decided then, to stop. To stop, stop, stop.

Stop, stop,_ stop,_ _stop, _**_stop._**

Not that anything had started, of course.

Of course!

Sirius couldn’t lose Remus, like he’d lost his parents. 

Except he’d never _ lost _ his parents—he’d never even _ had _ his parents. And still, how much it hurt—how much it _ still _hurt—and he’d never even had them. 

But this—with Remus. _This._ He had this. He had it in the palm of his hand—and to lose it. To lose it would destroy him.

If Remus ever came to… hate Sirius. To… _ despise _Sirius.

It would destroy Sirius. Utterly and irreparably.

And it was inevitable that Remus would despise him, if he… if _ they… _if…

So: Stop. _ Stop. _ ** _Stop. _ ** ** _Stop._ **

And it didn’t stop, exactly—and Sirius feared, then, that nothing could _ ever _stop it—but it was hidden, and hidden so well that even the constant, bittersweet pain seemed to disappear. Or perhaps that was the acclimatisation setting in.

_ Oh Merlin. _

It was a welcome distraction when Cissa came stomping, quite uncharacteristically, up to them, dragging Dromeda behind her.

Remus spoke first, “Uh—Cissa? Andromeda?”

“Hallo Remus,” Dromeda beamed.

Cissa scowled, “Sirius. We need to talk,” she glanced over at Remus.

Remus smiled and made his way off the grass, “I should be getting back to the common room, now—I’ll see you later, Sirius, Cissa—it was lovely seeing you, Andromeda—oh, and happy early graduation,”

Dromeda grinned, “Thanks, love,” then, she turned to Cissa, “You know, Cissa—I don’t mind terribly if Remus knows—I like Remus,”

“Dromeda!”

“No, really, I couldn’t care less—stop making such a bloody big deal out of it—”

Cissa narrowed her eyes dangerously, “I’m making a ‘bloody big deal out of it’ because _ it bloody well is a bloody big deal!” _

Remus looked terribly uncomfortable, “Uh, really, Andromeda—I don’t mind—I’ll just make my wa—”

Andromeda huffed, “Oh sit down, Remus—Cissa needs to learn how to _ calm down.” _

Remus glanced at Cissa—who continued to fume.

Sirius took hold of Remus’s elbow and pulled him back down. “Don’t mind Cissa—that’s practically her natural state,” he whispered.

Remus smiled gratefully at Sirius, dimples galore. Sirius grinned back.

“Oh, come _ on _Cissa, as if you don’t treat Remus like a little brother anyways.” Dromeda rolled her eyes.

Cissa seemed to deflate a little then. She rubbed a hand over her forehead. “You’re right—I’m sorry Remus, I’m behaving awfully rudely—it’s just—_fuck—" _

Sirius realised, with shock, that Cissa looked absolutely _ awful. _And if Cissa looked awful—Merlin, what was all this about.

Remus appeared as astonished as Sirius felt, “It’s alright, Cissa—I understand, really—are you alright?”

Cissa nodded her head. Remus shifted closer to her on the grass and put a hand over her own. Cissa clasped his hand in hers.

Sirius looked towards Dromeda, “What’s this about, Dromeda?”

Dromeda yawned, “Oh, nothing really—I’m eight months pregnant, that’s all,”

** _““WHAT!””_ **

Cissa looked pale. “She’s been hiding it under a glamour—the father’s—Circe—a Muggle-born—”

Sirius squared his jaw, “So?” And then, he caught himself, “Well, I mean, okay—fine, it’s a big deal—it’s a fucking _ huge _ deal, actually—but not because the father’s _M__uggle-born,” _

Cissa looked at him with hysteria in her eyes, “Sirius, you twit. Of course him being Muggle-born matters. Walburga’s going to kill Dromeda if she finds out,” Cissa turned to Dromeda, “Dromeda, you _ have _to get an abortion—”

Dromeda rolled her eyes. “As I’ve said repeatedly—I don’t want to. Ted and I are getting married as soon as we graduate.”

“You don’t understand what Walburga’s capable of—”

“I very well do, Cissa—now, if you two gentlemen would help me calm her down,” Dromeda looked at Remus and Sirius with beseeching eyes.

Remus spoke first, “Is there any way to convince Walburga—”

Cissa’s eyes went hard, “No.”

Remus shut his mouth.

And then, Sirius asked: “What was your plan, Dromeda?”

Dromeda grinned, “Fall in love—well, I suppose that was more of an accident than anything else—get pregnant—okay, that _ definitely _wasn’t part of the plan—oh, come on Cissa, loosen up—marry Ted Tonks, the love of my life, and then get disowned and never have to deal with The Fucking Horrendous And Most Abhorrent House of Black ever again.” She smiled. “Oh, and convince Cissa to be my bridesmaid.”

Sirius couldn’t help smiling, “Sounds brill,” he said, as he high-fived Dromeda.

Cissa looked at them with a stony face. “When are you two going to grow up? We’re not playing house, Sirius. Dromeda’s pregnant. She’s well and truly pregnant. And she’s eighteen years old. Ted—the father—is nineteen. This isn’t a bloody joke.”

Sirius looked back at Cissa, “No-one’s taking it to be a joke, Cissa. Dromeda’s fallen in love—”

“She’s been dating the bloke for barely a year!”

“But I’ve known him since I was eleven—and we’ve been friends for a large majority of that time,” Dromeda countered.

Cissa stared at her. And then, she got up from the grass and walked away.

Remus exchanged a glance with Sirius. Sirius shrugged, Remus worried his lip, “Um—should someone go after her?”

Andromeda smiled at Remus, “Let her be for a while—she’ll come back after she calms down,”

Remus looked unsure, but he settled back down.

“So,” Sirius began, “You’re pregnant, huh,”

Dromeda grinned, holding up a peace sign, “Well and truly,”

“Huh.”

Remus moved closer to Dromeda, “How are you feeling? We were all a bit hysterical just now—would you like some water? Oh, I’ve got chocolate frogs—would you like some?”

Dromeda smiled, ruffling Remus’s light-brown curls, “I’d love some—I’ve been craving chocolate, recently—I’ve been craving fermented vegetables as well, for that matter,” she continued, with a wistful expression on her face, “What I’d do to get my hands on some sauerkraut…. ooohh, or kimchi ... or acchar… hmmm…..”

“Would you like me to run to the kitchens and ask them to whip up something, Andromeda?”

“Call me Dromeda, please—all my loved ones do,”

“Dromeda, then—I’m sure the house elves will have something fermented lying around…” 

“Don’t worry about it, Remus,” Dromeda smiled.

Sirius _ really _looked at them both, then. He looked at Remus’s barely contained anxiousness, and he looked at Dromeda’s happiness. She looked happier than Sirius had ever really seen her before. It was like she glowed from the inside—all her edges had softened out. The palm of one hand lay protectively over her flat belly.

Sirius asked, “Does the glamour hurt the—baby? Is it a baby?”

“No Sirius, it’s a hippo,” Dromeda replied.

Remus laughed, so Sirius forgave Dromeda’s sassiness.

“Oh come off it, I meant should I refer to it as a baby, or a foetus? Or, I don’t know—uh, a collection of cells?”

Dromeda smiled, “Baby’s fine,”

“Okay—does the glamour hurt the baby?”

Dromeda shrugged, “I really hope not,”

Remus’s eyes widened, “Dromeda!”

Dromeda laughed, “I’m just kidding—the glamour’s harmless, don’t worry,”

“Isn’t it tiring, though? To keep up a glamour on top of everything? I really think I ought to get you something to eat…” Remus began, frowning.

“Awe, Remus, love, don’t worry—really,” Dromeda laughed, hugging Remus close.

“No, Dromeda, he’s right,” Sirius began, eyeing Dromeda, “I can summon some kombucha from home—wait, kombucha’s alcoholic isn’t it—uh, I could_ accio _ Peter’s salt and vinegar crisps?”

“There’s no way she’s eating something that’s been festering in your filthy dorm,” a voice said.

Cissa had returned—and she bore a jar of sauerkraut.

“Here, eat some, Dromeda.”

Dromeda beamed up at her, “Welcome back, love—have you calmed down?”

Cissa rolled her eyes, “Not particularly, no. I still think you’re an idiot. You too, Sirius—for supporting her.” she turned towards Remus, “You’re the only sane one here,”

Remus smiled ruefully, “Even though I support Dromeda’s plan, as well?”

Dromeda and Sirius broke out in matching grins. _ That’s my boy, _Sirius thought.

After struggling with herself for a while, Cissa sighed, “You’ve broken him, Sirius. You’ve broken the only sane person you know.”

Sirius smirked at Cissa, “You basically just admit to not being sane, yourself.”

Cissa scowled at him, “Oh, shut up,”

Then, they all spent the remainder of the afternoon eating sauerkraut on the grass and coming up with names for Dromeda’s baby.

“What about Nymphadora?” Dromeda suggested.

Sirius stuck his tongue out in distaste, “That sounds like someone I’d hex for fun,”

“So it sounds like a perfectly nice girl, then,”

“Exactly. Name it Sirius.”

Cissa rolled her eyes, “What if it’s a girl,”

Sirius rolled his eyes back, “Sirius transcends gender.”

Remus, the Betraying Betrayer, said: “I like the name Nymphadora—it’s… unique,”

Sirius scowled, “And if it’s a boy?”

“... Mortimer—Morty for short,” Dromeda said.

Sirius groaned, “You’re terrible—how can you do this to your unborn child,”

“Anything’s better than naming it Sirius, that’s for sure,” Cissa drawled.

Sirius scowled, again, “And what if it—I don’t know—what if it actually _ does _come out a hippo? What then?”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Then she can name it Remus,”

Dromeda and Cissa began to nod in agreement.

Sirius spluttered.

* * *

About a month later, after Dromeda had graduated and changed her name on the registry to Andromeda  Tonks, she introduced a laughing baby girl into the world.

“Nymphadora,” whispered Ted, tears streaming down his face, “Dora,”

Dora’s hair promptly changed colour to the same burgundy as her father’s shirt. It seemed Andromeda Tonks _ neé _Black had given birth to a Metamorphmagus.

A month after that, The Tonks threw the largest celebration Wizarding London had seen in the past decade. The reason, when asked, was given to be Andromeda Tonks’s freedom from The Fucking Rascist and Most Horrible House of Black.

On receiving the stylish invite, Narcissa Black smiled and secretly flooed herself to the party, bearing with her a casket of champagne.

A few hundred kilometres away, sitting in his new cottage, Remus Lupin grinned and owled The Tonks three baskets of premium Muggle chocolate.

And halfway across London, on the top-most floor of an unplottable pure-blood mansion, Sirius Black laughed to himself as he stuck up Muggle posters of half-naked women on his bedroom walls—the sound of his mother’s shrieking like music to his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dO NoT kNoW WhErE tHe StoRy Is GoInG. So MaNy ThINgS aRe HapPeNiNg. mY bRaIN iS tIreD.
> 
> (so really, things are progressing as they're always progressing.)


	11. And Maybe This Is A New Beginning.

Remus’s palms sweat as he stood outside The Tonks’ new home. It wasn’t that he was nervous about meeting Dromeda and Ted—he’d come to like them an awful lot—rather, what (or perhaps _ who _ was the better word) he was scared of meeting, was their daughter, Nymphadora.

Nymphadora Tonks: 

  * Female
  * Metamorphmagus
  * Two weeks old
  * Fragile.

She was so very, very fragile. And Remus, the lycanthrope, was so inhumanely strong.

Remus wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans—_what if I hurt her?—_and looked at the doorbell. For a heavy moment, he seriously deliberated the merits of fleeing.

Having made his decision, Remus smiled in a self-deprecating manner and turned back towards the street. _ Some Gryffindor I am. _

Two metres in front of him stood Sirius, staring back at him. Remus blinked—it’d been six weeks since he last saw Sirius. It seemed that Sirius had been standing, unnoticed, almost directly behind Remus. Sirius raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the doorbell. Remus winced.

“I was just…” Remus began. He was just what? He was just going to run away? He was just going to lie to Dromeda about being sick? He was just _ scared of an infant child? _

Remus winced again. The mercury in Sirius’s eyes softened. His posture however, remained the same. He looked pointedly at the doorbell again.

“Sirius…” Remus said, weakly.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to hurt the baby, Remus.”

“That’s—uh—that’s not what I was going to say.” Remus lied.

Sirius shot Remus a sardonic look, wryness melting perfectly onto his patrician features.

Remus sighed, and turning around, pressed the doorbell.

In the thirty seconds it took Ted to open the door, Remus had approximately seven atrial fibrillations. He wiped his hands on his T-shirt and looked sideways at Sirius. Sirius winked back at him and lifted a corner of his mouth.

And this asymmetrical smile—Remus’s favourite irregularity—seemed to work like a calming drought. Remus felt his wolf stir, gently.

_ Okay, Remus Lupin, you can do this. Probably. Maybe. _

“Sirius! Remus! It’s so good to see you both! Come on in,” Ted beamed, as he ushered them inside. “Dromedaaa! They’re here!” he called.

“I like your apron, Ted,” Remus smiled.

“Me too.” Sirius nodded, appreciatively.

Ted looked down at his frilly pink apron, pointing at the black lettering across his chest—‘Caution: Hot Contents.’ 

“Me three.” Ted grinned.

As they walked towards the living room, Remus admired the corridor wall. It had been completely adorned with photos of Dromeda, Ted, Nymphadora and their loved ones. Remus noted that not even once did any of Dromeda’s parents, aunt or uncle make an appearance. Next to him, Remus could feel Sirius’s appreciation of this fact. To Sirius, what Dromeda had managed to do was an inspiration.

Remus could smell a pleasant, milky aroma in the air. “What are you cooking? It smells delicious.”

Ted frowned. “I haven’t started yet. I’ve just been cutting up vegetables.”

A foreboding feeling spread in Remus’s chest.

“Maybe it’s all in your head?” Ted said.

As they entered the bedroom, the smell of milk got stronger. It was with utter despair that Remus realised it was coming from the baby.

He’d thought the baby smelt delicious.

He—Remus Lupin, a werewolf—had thought Nymphadora—a human infant—smelt delicious.

Remus gulped.

Sirius looked at him with a questioning gaze: _ The smell? _

Remus tried to smile and nodded towards the baby. Sirius took hold of his hand and squeezed it quickly.

“It’s fine, Remus,” he whispered.

Remus looked at him desperately. Sirius squeezed his hand again.

“Sirius? Remus? Uh, Hi?”

Remus looked up at Dromeda. She looked back, bemused.

“Congratulations, Sirius,” she said, holding an impossibly small bundle in her arms. “I can’t believe you actually managed to da—”

“I see the tribulation of child-birth hasn’t detracted your unpleasant nature.” Sirius released Remus’s hand and stepped away, slightly.

Remus clenched his fist in an attempt to chase away Sirius's absence.

Dromeda looked between the both of them for a while. “...What can I say, Sirius. I’m invincible.”

“Like a demon.” Sirius agreed.

Dromeda grinned back, and hugged the milky bundle closer. “Come closer then, both of you.”

Remus would’ve done anything in the world to _ not _come closer. That being said, he loved Dromeda, and he knew that her baby was incredibly important to her. And so, with fear in his heart, Remus walked up to them.

“It’s good to see you, Dromeda.” Remus said. Belatedly, he remembered something, “Ah, I bought an enchanted rattler for the baby.” Using a long distance summoning spell, Remus materialised the rattler. “It changes appearance depending on the baby’s mood.”

Dromeda beamed up at Remus, “Remus! Thank you so much!” Then she turned to Sirius, “What did you bring?”

“My company. Be grateful.” Sirius said, imperiously.

Dromeda looked at him, nonplussed. “Give me the receipt so that I can ask for a refund.”

Ted snorted. Remus let out a breath of laughter.

“You’re secretly his favourite cousin.” Remus told Dromeda, in a stage-whisper.

“I know.” Dromeda stage-whispered back.

Sirius looked at Remus, with his Blushing Betrayed Face. “Remus!”

Remus raised an eyebrow and grinned back.

The bundle, which Remus had been trying, resolutely, to _ not _look at, squirmed in Dromeda’s arms. Dromeda cooed.

“Would either of you like to hold her?” she asked.

_ Never, _ Remus thought, _No__t even on the pain of death. _

Sirius made a face, “Only if she promises to keep her bodily fluids to herself.”

Dromeda rolled her eyes, “Don’t be a twat, come here.”

_ It’s like watching a car crash, _Remus thought, as Sirius leant down and Dromeda transferred the baby to his arms.

“Watch her head,” Remus winced, noting the strange way Sirius was carrying her in his arms.

Sirius, for his part, seemed completely enamoured. “For someone with such an awful name, you’re incredibly lovely,” he murmured. “Who’s a lovely girl? You are! Yes, you are!” Then, Sirius looked at Dromeda and Ted—who had their wands on standby in case Sirius did something stupid. “Who does she take after, I wonder.”

“Me, obviously.” Ted said, puffing out his chest.

"Of course, Sweetie,” Dromeda said, shaking her head and pointing to herself.

In Sirius’s arms, Nymphadora’s brown hair changed to ebony black.

“Ooh! She likes you, Sirius!” Dromeda cooed. 

Next to her, Ted deflated. “Dora! You can only do that for Papa!”

Swallowing a laugh, Remus looked at Ted, “You’re going to make her call you Papa?”

Ted nodded, “I want her to stay rooted to her French heritage.”

Next to him, Dromeda rolled her eyes fondly.

Sirius scrunched his nose, “I’m going to force my children call me Father-Dearest.”

Remus looked at Sirius strangely, “Why?”

“In order to establish my dominance and force them to love me.”

“Underneath their disdain, I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.” Remus said, sardonically.

Sirius nodded sagely. He looked down at Dora in his arms. “You can call me Supreme Uncle Sirius—or Suppy for short.”

“Suppy.” Remus said.

“Suppy.” Sirius agreed.

Remus looked at Dromeda and Ted apologetically.

“What about Snuffles?” Remus suggested.

Sirius looked at him with a face of indescribable horror. “Never.”

Without realising it, Remus had ended up far closer than comfortable to the baby. She was so incredibly small. And pink. And wrinkled. And... and... and…. _ small. _

“Would you like to hold her, Remus?” Dromeda asked.

_ Never, _Remus thought, as “Sure,” came out of his mouth.

Sirius looked at him, smiling in a consoling manner. “It’s okay,” he whispered under his breath as he transferred her to Remus’s arms.

Remus took a deep breath and put all his focus on controlling his strength. He felt unbearably guilty knowing that Ted didn’t know that he was a lycanthrope. Remus wondered if Ted would let him even five metres within his child if he did. 

“It’s okay, Remus.” Sirius whispered again.

And then the baby was in his arms. So light, she was barely there at all. Against his better judgement, Remus brought her closer to him, enveloping her as gently as he could. Nymphadora seemed much too big a name for such a small thing. Much too large, much too grandiose. As she was right now, she was simply Dora. And as she looked at him, with large blue eyes, and cheeks which were so fat they overflowed, she inspired an instinctual love within him. Remus knew then, that he would do anything to protect her.

And it was perhaps this revelation that made him feel all the more awful. For out of all the things in the room, the thing she required the most protection from was himself. If he had let himself, Remus would have cried. As it was, he withheld his tears, quenching them, locking them up, and smiled a watery smile.

“Hi,” he whispered to her.

She raised her neck slightly, towards him. Remus brought her closer to his face, fighting the voice in his head which screamed _ ‘Stop!’. _Dora lifted her tiny arms, and with tinier hands which were composed of even tinier fingers, she touched his face. 

And the world, which before had been filled with prejudice and anger was stripped down to this small, vulnerable life. In that moment, Remus forgot what he was, because he was so consumed by the desire to protect and nourish. “It’s lovely to meet you, Dora. I’m Remus.” he whispered, tears building behind his eyes.

How strange babies were. How completely deficient of all abhorrent thoughts. How pure. _ If only you could understand what I am, love, _ thought Remus, _ if only you could realise I’m not worth it. _

Dora’s eyes changed to dark honey, her silky ebony hair melting into light brown curls. On her nose, small freckles emerged. When she touched Remus’s scars with both hands, Remus laughed, his voice strangled. “Why thank you, Dora.” Her affection, if that’s what it was, was innocent, and in this complete and utter naivety Remus revelled. He found that he could believe in this inexperienced child, more than he’d truly believed in anything in a long time.

“Wait. What the fuck.” Ted said, “She’s never changed the colour of her eyes for a stranger before!”

“Remus isn’t a stranger, Ted,” Dromeda said, laughing.

“Jealousy isn’t cute, Ted.” Sirius said.

Dromeda laughed even harder. “Jealousy isn’t cute _ at all.” _

Remus looked up at Dromeda, “I’d die for her.”

Dromeda nodded, “Join the club.”

Ted sniffed, “Give her here, Remus.”

Remus handed her over, gently. As soon as she was out of his arms, she began to cry.

“Dora! Don’t cry! Crap, none of the enchantments are going off—she’s not hungry, she doesn’t need a diaper change.” Ted waved his wand frantically, “Dora, don’t cry,” he said, more softly.

“Maybe she’s crying because you took her from Remus.” Sirius suggested.

Ted glared at him, and then at Remus for good measure. “Shhh, little baby, don’t cry…”

“Ted,” Dromeda said, “Give her back to Remus.”

Ted pouted and handed her back to Remus. Like magic_ (ha!) _ she quietened.

Glaring, in his frilly pink apron and fluffy pink bunny slippers, Ted said, “She’s just confused.”

Remus smiled down at Dora. Dora cooed.

“She’s just confused.” Ted repeated, petulantly.

“Shut up Ted.” Dromeda rolled her eyes.

* * *

“—Anyway, Andalusia is _ amazing.” _James said, concluding his riveting (and by riveting, Sirius meant insipid) tale.

“Great.” Sirius said into his communication mirror.

“Show some enthusiasm, you wanker.”

“Great!” Sirius exclaimed into his communication mirror.

“Yeah, yeah. So, how’s England?”

“Rainy, grey.”

“So as always, then?” 

“Pretty much.”

“And how was Dromeda’s?”

Sirius thought back to meeting Dora at Dromeda’s. “Her baby’s adorable. She’s gone on me, obviously.”

“Merlin, I really hope not, for her sake.”

“Funny, James.”

“Aren’t I?” James sounded as if he was grinning.

“No, not at all.”

“Awe, Sirius. So how’s Remus? I haven’t spoken to him since the start of summer, before he broke his communication mirror.”

“Remus is,”_—__taller, my height now. Handsomer. Lovelier. Always lovelier—_“good.” Sirius blushed.

“Good.” said James, in monotone.

Sirius hummed.

“Right. He’s _ good. _Okay.”

“Fuck off, you knob.”

“The Spanish girl I’ve been hanging out with is _ good _as well.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I feel like I should shout at you or something.”

“For having fun?”

“For cheating on Evans.” Sirius chastised.

There was a pause. And then, “Okay, first of all, we’re not dating. I just have—_had—_a crush on her. Past tense. And she hates me. So. Yeah.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you don’t like her anymore.”

“Yeah. It was a juvenile crush. I’m over it.”

“You’re over your infatuation with Evans.”

“Yes.”

“Can I ask what brought on this change in emotion?”

James sighed, “I was just… sick of liking her, and her not liking me back. I mean, okay, fine, I get the whole 'unrequited love is meant to be romantic,' but honestly, she… she’s… she just doesn’t _ like _me. She’s mean to me, for no good reason most of the time. And she’s prejudiced against me. She thinks I’m some arrogant arsehole. And I’ve tried to show her that I’m not, but she never tries to get to know me. I… I don’t know. I’ve liked her for two whole years, and she’s hated me that entire time. I’m done Sirius.”

Sirius thought in silence for a while. Surprisingly, he felt a deep sympathy for Evans. She obviously _ did _ like James. But it was also obvious that she didn’t _ like _liking James. And although Sirius felt bad for her, he was loyal primarily and ultimately to James. 

“If you want me to be honest, James, I’ve always thought the reason you liked her was kind of superficial. It was always about her appearance, or her confidence, or something. What do you even _ know _about her?”

The mirror was silent. Sirius continued.

“You liked her because she’s gorgeous, I think. Merlin, you don’t even know her middle name—”

“She has a middle name?”

“Yes, James. Do you see what I mean? If you’re over her, well, I support it. Not that I hate her or anything, I can respect Evans—”

“She incites respect, doesn’t she?” James said, sounding as if he was smiling.

“Uh, yeah, I guess. Anyways, you were kind of fooling yourself into thinking what you felt for her was more serious than it really was. I kind of understand where you’re coming from when you say that you’re over her. I’m happy for you,”

James hummed. “The Spanish girl, Sofia, is really nice.” he said

Sirius smiled, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” James said, quietly. “She’s really pretty as well. And she can dance flamenco.”

“That’s great mate.”

“Yeah.”

“So, how’s Euphe—”

“Sirius?”

“Yeah, mate?”

“I… I kind of miss her,” James said.

And because Sirius was his platonic soul-mate, Sirius understood at once who he meant.

“I thought you said you were over her, mate.”

“I am, really, I am. I just… well, she has a presence, doesn’t she?”

_ Does Evans have a presence? _ Sirius thought to himself. Maybe she did. “Uh, sure.”

“I just, I find myself thinking about her sometimes. Not in a romantic way. Platonically.”

“You find yourself thinking about her platonically.”

“Uh, yeah.”

Sirius paused. “James?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, whatever. You know I’ll support you regardless.”

“I know, Sirius. Thanks.”

“No need to thank me, you knob.”

James laughed. “I miss you so much, Sirius.”

As Sirius stared at the bikini clad women on his walls, he felt himself getting choked up. “I miss you too, James. Unbearably, everyday.”

“I wish you could have come with us.”

“Me too.”

“Next time, I’ll kidnap you.”

Sirius barked a laugh, “I’m in, let’s do it.”

“It’s a plan, mate.”

“It’s a plan.” 

“I’ll do it in front of Walby, to irritate her.”

“Pretend to be Muggle, that’ll do her in.”

“Oh, that’s perfect, I’ll borrow Remus’s clothes—although I doubt they’ll fit me,”

“He’s grown taller, he’s my height now. They’ll fit you. Either way, we can just transfigure them.”

“Oh, he’s taller, is he?”

Sirius felt that the conversation had suddenly taken a dangerous turn. “Uh, yeah.”

“That’s so _ good.” _

“I hate you, James.”

James laughed, “You love me.”

Sirius cut the communication line. Five seconds later, James called him again.

“Hello, you dramatic loser.”

“Hi, you pathetic sod.”

“So, how _ is _Walby.”

“Crazy, as always. She’s been especially overbearing ever since Dromeda escaped.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. She tried to set up an engagement for me with some French, pure-blooded bint.”

“Was she pretty?”

“She was beautiful. But she was a fucking bint. And she had a half-blood girlfriend.”

“At least she wasn’t a pure-blood supremacist.”

“That’s true.”

“Hey, small victories.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, that reminds me, have you been keeping in touch with Peter?”

“Oh shite, I haven’t.”

“Ah, mate, that’s so shit. I feel so bad. We always unintentionally leave the poor bloke out.”

Sirius felt an unpleasant throb of guilt. “I’ll call him after this. You’re right though, we’re such horrible friends.”

“I wonder if Remus has been keeping in touch with him.”

Sirius smiled, “He probably has, knowing him. They’re probably writing to each other.”

“Hey, how come Remus never writes to me.”

“It’s because you don’t know how to read.”

“Shut up, Sirius.”

Sirius laughed, “It’s because he usually calls using his communication mirror.”

“Ahh, I miss him so much.”

“I miss him too.”

“I miss him more.”

Sirius was silent for a while. “No-one misses him more than me, James.” he said, quietly.

“Okay, fine.”

“So tell me about Euphemia—”

* * *

In the remaining two weeks of Summer Holidays, Remus was nowhere. And by nowhere, Sirius meant that no-one heard from him. It seemed that he had disappeared.

James and Peter thought Sirius was overreacting, but James and Peter were fools.

It scared Sirius, to think that Remus had disappeared. It felt like he was slipping out of Sirius’s grasp, while Sirius was trying, desperately, to keep hold of him. The feeling was uncomfortably similar to that awful moment, half a year ago, in the winter, in the cold, with Remus… 

Sirius shuddered. 

Remus had disappeared. And Sirius’s toe-curling fantasies had been been replaced with nightmares. Night after night. 

Remus was gone. Sirius knew it. He knew it because his heart cried. And his heart, it seemed, had tied itself irrevocably to Remus’s.

_ It’s only been two weeks, _some part of his brain said.

_ He’s gone, _ his heart wept, _ he’s gone, he’s gone. _

_ He’ll be at Hogwarts, you’ll see, _consoled his brain.

* * *

Remus wasn’t on platform nine and three quarters.

He wasn’t on the Hogwarts Express.

_ He’ll be at the banquet, _Sirius’s brain said.

But Sirius’s heart cried.

* * *

One week into third year, and Remus was nowhere.

Sirius’s heart sobbed, _I told you, he’s gone. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's feels so good to update — I've missed the characters so much T.T


	12. Dear Hope,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to announce that I've finally realised how to type — instead of --. 
> 
> I don't think I've felt this excited in a long, long time. Good-bye, oh abhorrent --.

Remus,

Where are you?

Sirius

* * *

Remus, 

Seriously, it’s been two weeks. Where the fuck are you?

Sirius

* * *

<strike> Remus, </strike>

<strike> I can’t stand not seeing you. It’s driving me insane. </strike>

<strike> Sirius </strike>

<strike> P.S. I think I </strike>

* * *

Remus,

Reply.

Sirius

* * *

Hope,

Where’s Remus?

Sirius

* * *

Dear Hope,

How are you? I hope you’ve been doing well. I’d like to thank you for the box of cookies you sent me on my birthday—the cinnamon ones were absolutely fab.

I’m actually writing to you in regards to Remus. I’m not sure if you know (although I really hope that you do) but Remus hasn’t been in school? At first we thought it was because of your illness, but he’s never been gone so long before. Are you okay? We’re all terribly worried.

We’d really appreciate if you’d write back to us with any information you might have regarding Remus’s whereabouts. Other than that, we really hope that you’re taking good care of yourself (pass on my well wishes to Lyall as well).

Love,

James

P.S. Sirius wants to say sorry for the brash letter he sent you—he’s been a bit distraught recently.

* * *

Dear Mrs. Lupin,

Although we have met on prior occasion, I believe this is the first time I’ve had the opportunity to write to you. It’s lovely to be of correspondence.

Forgive me for my forthrightness, but my cousin—Sirius Black—has been continuously pushing me to write this letter, and as such I believe it would be perhaps the most appropriate to simply get to the root of the matter. Please do forgive my following digression from propriety. 

I’d like to make a query regarding your son—Remus Lupin’s—whereabouts. I don’t believe he’s currently present at Hogwarts. This fact is of particular personal concern, I do worry about him greatly when he visits you. It’s simply not safe for such a young man to travel by himself, and Remus is a rather frail child already.

I sincerely hope that nothing serious has occurred to keep Remus away from his schooling. Please do owl me if there is anything that I can possibly help with.

On an unrelated note, I’d like to offer an apology on behalf of my cousin, Sirius Black. It has come to my knowledge that in his overwrought anxiety he has been sending you rather impolite letters. Unfortunately, the boy is severely lacking in manners. I have personally reprimanded him for his behaviour. I hope that you will see past his faults and forgive him, as I do believe that his actions come from a place of affection.

Kind regards,

Narcissa Black

_ Student, _

_ Year Five, _

_ Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry _

* * *

Hope,

Remus? 

Sirius

* * *

<strike> Remus, </strike>

<strike> Do you realise what you’re doing to me? It hurts to write your name. I hate you for that. And I hate you even more because I can’t even hate you properly. </strike>

<strike> When will you realise that you’re half of my heart? Come back so that I can be whole. </strike>

<strike> Come back. Please. </strike>

<strike> Sirius </strike>

* * *

Remus,

I’ll buy you a chocolate statue of yourself. Just come back. Where are you? Please be okay.

Sirius

* * *

<strike> Remus, </strike>

<strike> Go fuck yourself. Or better, come fuck me. Or let me fuck you. I’m down for either, or both. Preferably both. </strike>

<strike> I’m never sending this letter. </strike>

<strike> Sirius. </strike>

* * *

Remus,

Mate, are you okay? We’re all really worried. Reply as soon as you can.

Love,

James

* * *

“As I’ve been saying—_I do not know. _Do not make me repeat myself yet another time, Black.”

Sirius scowled at Minnie. “If you don’t know, why haven’t you made any move to find out? Don’t think you can fool me so easily.”

Minnie looked down at Sirius coldly. “This matter does not concern you—”

_“Bullshit.” _Sirius growled. “What do you know—”

“You will behave yourself if you wish for me to speak to you cordially.” Minnie glared at Sirius.

Sirius grit his teeth and clenched his fists. Both Minnie and Sirius stared at each other over the desk. With the tea in Minnie’s cup at room temperature, their stalemate continued.

“I know you know what you don’t want me to know.” Sirius said, finally.

Minnie rolled her eyes. “Get out of my office, Black.”

“Tell me why Remus isn’t here.”

_ “Get out of my office.” _

“You know that I won’t. Tell me why he isn’t here.”

Minnie took a deep breath. _ “I do not know.” _

Sirius could feel a pulsing vein in his temples. “Don’t lie to me!”

_ “Go back to Potions.” _

“Not until you tell me why he isn’t here!”

A single knock resounded on Minnie’s door. James walked in.

“Get out of my office, Potter.”

James smiled ruefully at Minnie, “You know that we hate doing this to you—” Minnie gave James a hard look, “—_mostly, _but we’re worried about Remus.”

Abruptly, Minnie got up from her chair. Despite their bravado, both James and Sirius flinched in response.

With the added advantage of height, her cold look doubled in emphasis. 

“Tell me, you insufferable idiots, do I look worried to you?”

Sirius and James glanced at each other.

_ Sirius: ? _

_ James: Mate, I don’t know. _

Sirius looked back towards Minnie. She looked… normal? Well, as normal as she could look while being as frustrated as humanly possible. Next to Sirius, James opened his mouth to speak.

“Don’t answer that.” Minnie snapped, putting a quick _ Silencio _over the both of them. “I should have done that forty minutes ago,” she huffed.

Sirius scowled at her darkly. Minnie looked close to scowling back. In some part of his mind, Sirius was equal parts ashamed and proud that he had evoked this state in her.

They remained in silence for a while. They were all so still that Sirius was reminded of the non-moving Muggle posters in his room. 

“I am doing well, and shall be doing even better in around a week’s time.” Minnie said, giving Sirius and James a significant look. “Now get out of my room. Ten points from Gryffindor.”

Sirius and James felt themselves getting pushed towards the door by an invisible force.

“Use your brains, both of you.” Minnie sighed behind them.

As the door closed on his heels, Sirius found himself in the corridor—frustrated, but at least partly mollified.

* * *

dear remus,

why arent you at school? sirius and james met mcgonagal and she said that you were okay. i hope your actually okay. i miss you loads.

love 

peter

* * *

Dear Remus,

Where are you? Are you okay? Don’t worry about lessons, we’ll catch you up on everything you’ve missed. Reply as soon as you can,

Lots of love,

Lily and Sev

* * *

Remus,

It’s been 16 days. Come back.

Sirius

* * *

<strike> Remus, </strike>

<strike>Today I had a dream about you. And not the sexy kind. Don’t do this, please. Please come back.</strike>

<strike> I’ll do anything. Just, please. </strike>

<strike> Sirius. </strike>

* * *

Dear Remus,

I noticed you weren’t in school, so I wanted to owl to check up on you. Would you believe that this is the fifth letter I’ve written to you? The previous four got eaten by that black dog—the same one who urinated on my shoe. I wonder if it has something against me? Maybe I give off some kind of anti-dog pheromones. How strange.

Anyway, I hope you are well. I had lots of fun at the lake with you at the end of last term. I was wondering if you’d like to go again sometime?

Warm regards,

Bertram

* * *

James sighed loudly. “Sirius.”

Sirius scowled back at him.

James ran a hand through his hair. “He’s fine. It’s only been a bit over two weeks.”

Sirius felt a pressure building behind his eyes. He looked away.

“Hey,” James said, his voice so gentle it was barely there at all. “Sirius, he’s fine. There’s no way Minnie would be so calm if he wasn’t.”

Sirius blinked rapidly and put a hand over his fretting heart. _ Did you hear that? _his brain asked.

_ No, _his heart replied.

* * *

<strike> Remus, I’m pretty sure I </strike>

* * *

It was a Wednesday morning. Sirius could tell because he could taste the foulness of it before he’d even managed to open his eyes.

Wednesdays were the worst. There was no reason for it.

His first thought went to Remus, as always. He wished his mind wouldn’t do that. 

The soft, golden image of him carried with it a strange sadness. For a Wednesday, it was too much.

“I’m not going to class today.” Sirius announced, his eyes still closed.

James grunted his approval.

“I think it’s professional development day today,” Peter mumbled.

James made a confused noise.

“... No classes today…” Peter managed to say, through his drowsiness.

For some reason, this made Sirius all the more irritated. It was as if the universe was mocking his truancy. As a big ‘fuck you’ (or more accurately, the only act of petulance he could think of), Sirius opened his eyes.

The top of his canopy stared back at him. Sirius wondered briefly why this sight felt more like home than anything in Grimmauld Place.

_ Probably ‘cause I can actually breathe here. _

Sirius rubbed his hands over his face—“I’m going for a walk.”—and while rolling off his bed, changed forms.

A young black dog sprinted out of the Gryffindor boys’ dorms and ran down the stairs.

The irony materialised when a tawny brown owl entered the very room the dog had left.

“...Hnnnghhh?” said James, as he felt a light weight land on top of his face.

* * *

Sirius let his animalistic instincts take over. 

This meant that he spent the entire morning running around the Forbidden Forest.

He found a coven of centaurs, and was even fed some of their left-over deer meat.

Because he’d let his animalistic instincts take over, he could ignore the niggling little thought which yelled _ ‘You’re eating your best mate!’. _

(James wasn’t ACTUALLY a stag. He was a human. A human who could turn into a stag. So no. It wasn’t disrespectful of Sirius to eat deer. Probably. Maybe.)

(Sirius vowed to never eat deer again.)

Somewhere around three kilometres into the Forbidden Forest, Sirius ran into a unicorn. It was kind of a sanctimonious bitch. Or maybe it acted that way because it could smell the debauchery which oozed out of Sirius’s pores.

Sirius ran. He ran a lot. The Forbidden Forest was particularly fun because the uneven ground made it a sort of obstacle course. So Sirius ran. He ran, and ran, and then ran some more. Until he just couldn’t get enough air, no matter how hard he tried. Until he was so exhausted that his brain momentarily ignored the memory of Remus’s name.

Nothing could quite make him ignore the memory of Remus’s smile.

Feeling an odd sense of defeat, Sirius began to make his way back to the castle.

* * *

“Lupin, welcome back. I hope your mother is doing well.” McGonagall said.

“My mother… is alright, Professor,” Remus laughed weakly.

“You’ve grown considerably over the summer,”

“Have I?” Remus asked, smiling sardonically.

McGonagall paused, narrowing her eyes at him, “Lupin. Don’t tell me—”

* * *

“Sirius!” said a voice.

Sirius didn’t want to deal with this right now. It was a Wednesday after all. He began to walk faster, feigning ignorance.

“Sirius! Wha…. wait, Sirius Black!”

Unfortunately, it seemed The Voice was particularly eager to speak with Sirius. If Sirius thought about it, he couldn’t really blame them—he’d be eager to talk to himself too.

That being said, it was a Wednesday today. And Sirius really was not having it. He sighed to himself as he turned around, beginning to formulate a plan which would no doubt end with tears, on The Voice’s part.

“Sirius,” smiled the girl, to whom the voice had belonged.

Upon seeing her dirty blonde hair and freckles, Sirius’s voice caught in his throat.

“I, uh, I wanted to say thank you,” she stammered, beginning to blush.

And the way she blushed… Sirius raised an eyebrow in question.

“For, um, for telling those Slytherins to sod off… last week…” she began to trail off, realising perhaps, that Sirius didn’t recognise her.

Sirius sighed internally as he looked down at her. Then, he smiled. “Sorry, who are you?” he asked, trying to emulate Remus and his ever-flowing kindness.

From the way the girl flinched, Sirius garnered he’d done it wrong. He tried again.

“Usually I wouldn’t forget someone so pretty,”—this was a lie, Sirius was terrible with names—“but I’ve been a bit stressed recently, so you’ll have to remind me,”

Her blush darkened, “I’m Leah. Um, Ravenclaw, in your year. You stood up for me when those fourth-year Slytherins made fun of me for being Muggle-born,” she smiled.

Sirius couldn’t remember this happening. It was likely he’d just taken the opportunity to vent his frustrations on some bigoted knob he’d encountered by chance. All these star-struck girls took one look at his perfect face and threaded him into some hero narrative they’d formulated in their minds.

“It’s nice to meet you, Leah.” Sirius grinned, “I’m flattered that you think so highly of me, but I would’ve done the same thing for anybody—”

“I know,” she said, stepping closer to Sirius and looking up at him with big, blue eyes. “I know that you’re kind.”

Sirius really couldn’t deal with this right now. He resisted the urge to step backwards, but dropped his smile slightly. “Listen, Leah, I’m really not interested—”

She stepped even closer to Sirius, until her body was pressed entirely against his. And her freckles… so similar to Remus’s… Sirius felt his resolve weaken.

“I’ve always loved your hair,” she whispered, pressing forward with her soft chest.

It was a Wednesday today. Sirius hated Wednesdays. He hated them, he hated them so much, but here was a girl with freckles similar to Remus’s, and hair just a shade lighter.

And Remus wasn’t here. But this girl—similar to him in some respects—was right in front of Sirius.

_ No, _cried his heart.

“Uh, look—” Sirius tried again, starting to move backwards.

But Leah’s gaze was on Sirius’s mouth. She licked her own lips slowly.

The image brought back memories of another pink tongue. Heat surged in Sirius’s stomach as he thought about Remus’s mouth. 

Sirius was so _ tired. _

(_Of what?_ he wondered, somewhere deep in his mind.)

She stood on her tiptoes and moved her hands to Sirius’s neck. She was so short… unlike Remus, who’d grown over the summer to be Sirius’s height. Sirius shuddered at the memory, confusing it with the corporeal pleasure brought on by the feeling of ghosted breath. 

_ Stop, _said his heart.

“Wait—” Sirius started.

In that second her lips found his own, and Sirius was lost in the sensation. His hands moved to pull her body closer to his. Her mouth gasped in response.

He was lost in the sensation of touch. His heart was silent. Perhaps it was confused. Perhaps it had given up. Or perhaps it was broken. Self-destruction was Sirius’s forté, after all.

Sirius pulled away for a second. The sight of her blue eyes shocked him—he’d been expecting a warmer, honey colour.

And this realisation hurt him. _ He’ll never love you in that way, _ Sirius’s brain said. _ You’ll never let him love you in that way, you can’t lose him. _

But her? Sirius could lose her. He smirked coolly.

“Follow me.” he whispered in her ear.

* * *

McGonagall cleared her throat awkwardly. “Well, Lupin. If you,” she paused, “if you require any advice, you are welcome to contact either Madame Pomfrey or I anytime.”

Remus couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing. “Uh, I’ll keep that in mind, Professor.”

McGonagall looked pained. “Go to your room.”

“Sure,” Remus laughed, “Professor?”

McGonagall looked at him warily.

“Thanks, I mean it.” Remus smiled.

McGonagall huffed a breath of laughter, “I’ve missed those dimples of yours, Lupin.”

Remus’s smile widened.

“Now get out of my office.”

* * *

“Evans! Open the door!” James yelled.

Silence greeted him. James tried desperately to swallow the smile which threatened to break on his face. No doubt Evans was decidedly ignoring him.

He glanced down at the letter in his hands. Now wasn’t the time. Or, for that matter, _ ever _wasn’t the time. James had made a decision over the summer. And James was going to stick to that decision.

He had to. For his dignity.

“Evans! Snape! I know you’re in there! Pete and I’ve got a letter from Hope—”

The door flew open. Inside it stood a red-haired angel.

James held up the letter like a white flag.

Evans scowled at him. “Don’t just stand there.”

“Just thought I’d let you get your fill—social service and all that.” James replied, winking at her.

Her scowl deepened. James tried to tamp down on his excitement. It was so much fun pissing her off. 

It had absolutely nothing to do with how fit she looked when she was angry. Nope. Nothing at all.

“Come in, Potty.” Snape called from inside.

Peter pat James consolingly on the arm, James smiled back.

“I missed you too, Sevie-kins,” James said, as he walked into the dragon’s lair.

* * *

Sirius pushed the girl down on his bed and kissed her lightly. The kiss increased in intensity every passing second. It was the feeling of wet lips moving against his own, a soft body squirming underneath him, and small hands moving under his shirt.

And all the while no thought of Remus.

Perhaps Sirius had found a way to keep him off his mind.

* * *

On off-days, like today, the dormitories smelled, or rather, _ reeked, _of sex. Or sexual desire. It was hard to tell, with so much coming from everywhere.

It’d never really bothered Remus before—it was natural, he was surrounded by teenagers. But now, given… more recent physiological developments… Remus felt his wolf stir.

He deeply hoped nobody was inside his shared bedroom. All he needed, hopefully, was a quick wank. That’s all. Probably.

Honestly, he really wasn’t sure, this was all relatively new to him.

Sighing, he opened the door to his room.

* * *

James exchanged a glance with Peter. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Evans and Snape do the same thing.

He felt the sudden desire to laugh. He couldn’t help it. On the floor in between them all lay Hope’s letter.

***

Dear James,

I’m so glad you liked the cookies! Remus had said you’d like the cinnamon ones, but I wasn’t completely sure. I suppose this means I should be trusting my son more (whoops).

Don’t worry about me, I’m completely alright. Remus is on his way back to Hogwarts right now—in fact, he should probably arrive before this letter does. I’m sorry for replying so late, I was preoccupied with an unprecedented flare-up of my condition—you know how fickle it can be. It was especially taxing because Remus is at that age (let’s just say he’s currently surrounded by the birds and the bees—or the flobberworms and the horklumps, as I believe you mage-folk like to call it).

Oh, woe is me. Nobody can understand the plight of a mother with a pre-pubescent (blimey, is thirteen counted as pubescent?) son. The stress of managing his pubescent milestones definitely exacerbated my flare-up. You know how vulnerable I am to stress.

But, well, Remus is my baby and I’d die for him (don’t tell him I told you this, he’d kill me).

And that is all. Much ado about nothing, eh? Don’t worry about me too much, and do take care of yourself.

Please pass on my message to whomever you see fit (I’m trusting you on this one, Jamesie).

Tell Sirius not to worry about his letters! I thought they were so cute. I’ll write back to Cissa soon. That pair of cousins is absolutely adorable, really.

Send my love to Peter. (Lyall says thanks for the well wishes, and sends you his own.)

Love,

Hope

***

“Uh, James?” Peter asked.

James looked up at him.

“Uh, what does werewolf puberty look like?”

James felt the inappropriate urge to laugh once again. “I guess we’ll find out, mate.”

Next to Evans, Snape had paled. “I’ve read that werewolves go through monthly heat cycles,” he said.

James started to laugh.

Evans glared at him and pursed her lips in what he suspected was an attempt to quell her own laughter.

“Oh, come on,” James laughed.

Next to him, Peter frowned, “So he’s going to feel really hot once a month?”

It took a considerable while for James to recover from his laughing fit.

* * *

Sirius had his lips on the girl’s neck and hand under her bra when the door opened. Call it instinct, coincidence, or the power of the L-word (Sirius felt deeply uncomfortable admitting to it), but somehow, Sirius knew who it was.

Standing in the doorway stood Remus, in all his honey-ish glory. 

He looked absolutely mortified. It was beautiful.

Before he’d realised that he’d moved, Sirius was flinging himself onto Remus. He hugged him desperately. 

_ He’s here, he’s here, he’s here. _

He moved his hands from the soft curls of Remus’s head—_he’s here—_to the smooth fabric of the Muggle Tee-shirt which covered his back—_he’s here!—_to finally, the rough texture of the Genes (or was it Jeans?—Sirius wasn’t quite sure) which covered his butt—_Sweet Merlin above, he’s fucking here!_

For good measure, and because Sirius wasn’t really thinking, he squeezed Remus’s arse. (Firm. It was firm.) 

(Not that Sirius had taken particular note.)

“You’re back!” Sirius said, Calmly.

“Ngghhhhhh?”

Sirius had decided that he was never letting Remus go. The whole Wizarding world could come at him with _Imperio_ on the tip of their tongues, Sirius didn’t care. He was never letting go. Maybe this was how he’d finally master Occlumency. 

“Are you okay?” Sirius asked, still hugging Remus like a mad man, and just barely processing that he still had his hands on Remus’s arse.

“Mggghhh?!”

_ Ahh, he’s so warm. _Sirius hugged Remus tighter. 

After two weeks of chasing after Remus’s shadow, Sirius had finally caught him. Here he was, literally in Sirius’s arms—_where he’ll stay for all eternity, so help me. _

“Sirius?” called the girl on Sirius’s bed.

_ Oh shite. _Sirius groaned softly.

Not wanting to let Remus go, Sirius turned them around 180 degrees—so that he faced the beds, while Remus faced the door.

“Sorry, something came up,”_—what was her name?—_“I’ll see you around, Lola.”

The girl flushed, “My name’s Leah,”

“Ah yeah, Leah, uh, I’ll see you around.” When she made no move to clothe herself Sirius sighed and looked at her pointedly, “Bye!” 

Leah stumbled off the bed and began to blink rapidly. Sirius wondered, and not for the first time, how he was meant to react. Should he comfort her? What if that gave her false hope? Was it better to be kind?

_ Awe Circe, _she had begun sniffling. Sirius buried his head in Remus’s shoulder.

And that is when—of course—Remus elbowed him, rather savagely, in the ribs.

Sirius smiled. He had missed this.

“Let go of me, Sirius.” Remus said.

And _ hello, _his voice was sex. The rough kind. The kind that left you with hickeys, bruises and bite marks. The kind of sex that you felt for days afterwards—

“Sirius, you fucking idiot, _ let go of me.” _

Sirius pouted. “No.”

_ “Sirius.” _

“Fuck you.” _ Literally. Please. _

Remus sighed in a pained manner and pushed Sirius’s arms off him. Sirius was proud that he actually managed to put up a fight for approximately five seconds.

Once free, Remus gave Sirius a look. Sirius was too busy appreciating Remus’s face at this new angle to decipher the non-verbal message he’d sent.

Remus sighed _ (oh, what a lovely sound) _and turned towards Lola—Leah, whatever.

“Sorry about that, Leah.” Remus said, smiling wryly at the girl.

This Lala person sniffed and smiled miserably back at Remus, “Don’t worry about it Remus, I should’ve known.”

Sirius was thankful that she at least had a sense of self-awareness.

Remus, on the other hand, was less accepting of her admission. He turned to glare at Sirius.

Sirius shrugged.

Remus glared harder. Sirius wondered if Remus realised how lovely he looked when he was angry.

_ “Sirius.” _Remus said.

“Remus.” Sirius replied, smiling.

“Uh, I’ll make my way out now,” the girl said, now properly dressed.

Remus turned to face her. “Leah, hold on a second,” 

Sirius was kind of irritated that Remus was giving her more attention than him. He considered sulking, but quickly forewent that idea in favour of pretending he didn’t know what Remus was on about.

Remus, who was intimately familiar with all of Sirius’s behaviour, saw through him in an instant. Like always, he changed tactics. He gave Sirius his Look of Disappointment.

And Sirius caved. How could he not?

Sirius turned to look at the girl—Leah—and smiled in the way that Cissa had taught him. “Hey, I’m sorry about this. It was fun hanging out with you,”

Leah looked at him with wide-eyes and began to blush. Sirius had to swallow a flinch. This was exactly why he was such an arsehole.

“I had fun as well,” she said, fidgeting with her hands.

Sirius wanted to ask her why she’d stopped leaving the room—_please continue! _

He looked at Remus as if to say: _ See? _

Remus rolled his eyes: _ Don’t be dramatic. _

(Sirius had missed this as well.)

“Well,” he turned back to the girl, and in a way he hoped best conveyed his wish for her to leave, said, “I’ll see you around.”

Next to him, Remus grinned and waved. This seemed to soften the blow, somewhat.

“I’ll see you around.” Leah smiled, finally, _ finally _leaving the room.

And then it was only Sirius and Remus.

Sirius pointed a _ Colloportus _at the door and began walking towards Remus.

“Where the _ fuck _were you.”

* * *

Remus was going insane. The smell of sex was everywhere, and it seemed to only grow stronger. It was making Remus dizzy.

And unbelievably horny.

Remus squirmed surreptitiously, wondering all the while how he could get Sirius to leave the room. He didn’t know how long he could keep holding himself together.

On a good day Sirius smelt a bit like a brothel. Today, it seemed, was a very, very very bad day. 

Sirius smelt like an inter-species orgy. And it was driving Remus crazy.

It was only the restraint he’d developed throughout his lifetime which kept his wolf from taking over. Even then, Remus could feel it getting stronger every passing moment.

And now, Sirius was moving closer to him.

“Sirius. Stop.” Remus managed to say. 

Sirius raised an eyebrow and began walking faster. Remus slapped his forehead. When had Sirius ever done what was asked of him?

“Remus.” Sirius stood directly in front of Remus, “Where were you.”

Remus could hear his heartbeat in his ears. “I was at home.” He took a deep breath, “Listen, I’ll tell you more later, I—I need to be alone right now,”

Everything felt hyper-sensitive to touch. The friction of Remus’s jeans against his crotch was unbearable. Remus was expending an inordinate amount of effort trying to keep his body still.

The first wave of arousal hit him like a train. It wasn’t as frightening as the first time he’d experienced it—two weeks ago—but that was why it was perhaps worse.

His whole body seemed to throb with his heartbeat. A strange heat unfurled slowly in the pit of his stomach, and his entire being urged to frot against something else.

He felt incredibly sensitive, especially so when his erection pressed against his jeans. 

(Why had he worn jeans today?! Why the fuck did these things happen to him?!)

All he could hear, all he could feel was contained to the sensations produced by his body. And his wolf—who was usually suppressed as strongly as Remus’s ability allowed—mixed with his human consciousness. It was a bit similar to the days preceding a full moon, except in this instance Remus wasn’t trying to avoid his wolf. 

He couldn’t. All he could think about was finding relief. 

“...mus! Are you okay?!”

Sirius smelt fucking amazing. Like prey.

And he was close enough to touch. 

“Sirius…” Remus rasped.

“What the fuck, Remus?! Shit, let me call Pom—” and that was when Sirius made the mistake of touching Remus’s arm.

* * *

_ Shit—_Remus’s face was entirely flushed. Sirius had to call someon—

Something abruptly jerked Sirius backwards. Before he had time to regain consciousness of his surroundings, Sirius felt the crash of lips against his own.

These lips, Sirius realised, pretty much as soon as they touched his own, belonged to Remus. Consequently, his brain decided—in a moment of imperative helpfulness—to shut down.

Sirius couldn’t believe it. Dreams didn’t occur in reality. That’s not what happened. _ Nope. This isn’t happening. There’s no way. _

Except now, Remus—who had his hands in Sirius’s hair—had pushed him against a wall. And was biting his lip. With his teeth. Which could be found in his mouth. Which was _ kissing Sirius, Merlin’s gaping asshole! _

Sirius stood there, not really processing what was going on and not really understanding how on Earth he had managed to get so lucky.

And now, Remus was using his tongue. Which was _ the most fucking sensual organ to have ever existed EVER IN THE WHOLE HISTORY OF MANKIND. _

His hands pulled slightly at Sirius’s hair. Sirius felt the tug all the way down in his groin. Which was, by the by, _ touching Remus’s groin. _ Which was, _ by the by, _ ** _ ERECT._ **

Sirius had surmised that he had died. If it weren’t for the knowledge that he really hadn’t lived a life meriting an entry ticket into Heaven, he’d have thought he was there. As it was, Sirius deduced he must be in Hell. A Sex Hell. A Sex Hell that was secretly the _ fucking best place in the universe. _

It was in the moment that Remus began to grind his stiffy against Sirius’s crotch that Sirius’s brain well and truly shut down.

Remus’s kisses weren’t sweet and deep like they’d been in Sirius’s imagination. They were rough, hard, and hungry. And in this raw sexuality Sirius felt himself combust; a thousand separate firestorms with every touch.

He felt himself blush—very, very ironically—like a virgin maiden. His own dick began swelling as Remus rut against him. The millimeter of cloth between them was the distance between the sun and the moon.

Remus growled deep in his throat. Sirius withheld an orgasm, but it was a fucking close thing. 

“Remus…” Sirius moaned in between kisses, finally, _finally _recovering himself enough to grind back.

It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t _ nearly _ enough. This was the best moment in Sirius’s life, no other moment would ever, _ ever, _ ** _ever_**_— _

Suddenly, Remus pushed himself away from Sirius, creating a space of two metres in as many seconds.

_ What the Merlin loving fuckity fuck. _

Remus stared at him, looking like sex personified with his tousled curls and kiss-swollen lips. It was only his expression, which was like shattered glass, that destroyed Sirius’s libido.

The fear in Remus’s eyes broke Sirius’s heart a hundred times over. And then again, when Remus moved another step away from him.

And Sirius knew then, why he had gotten so very lucky.

“...Is this why you were late,” Sirius asked, sounding remarkably normal for someone whose heart in a span of ten minutes had first expanded to encompass the visible galaxy, and then broken into fragments smaller than pixie dust.

Remus looked miserably at the floor, and Sirius had his answer.

Sirius tried to convince himself that this outcome was the optimum one. He’d gotten the opportunity to… _ philander… _ with Remus, with no strings attached. Their relationship, presumably, wouldn’t be affected in any way. _ Fucking fantastic. _

Except Sirius didn’t think he would ever manage to recover from this. Sirius rather thought he was completely ruined, and for all eternity at that. He’d gotten a taste of the forbidden fruit. How could anything else ever compare?

And even that analogy had its flaws. How could the temptation of a fruit ever compare to what Sirius felt for… 

Sirius took a deep breath. And then a few more. And a few more after that.

Remus looked like he’d committed the sin of his life. “Sirius, I’m so sorry, I—I don’t know what happened, everything smelt like sex, and the wolf—”

_ The wolf. _

Sirius was caught between laughing hysterically and running away for an indeterminate period of time. He felt absolutely awful. In between that horrible emotion, though, there existed a modicum of relief.

Despite how he consistently acted around Remus, Sirius wasn’t used to not having his shit together. This was particularly true in the context of hooking up.

The state of utter bewilderment he’d just been in had therefore frightened him greatly. He’d neither known how to react nor how to proceed. And there was also, of course, the fear of what it all might have meant.

Sirius knew what it meant now. It meant absolutely nothing. And this revelation was equal parts distressing and liberating.

Well, okay, it wasn’t liberating. It was fucking agonising, actually. But it was definitely, definitely safer.

When it came to Remus, Sirius would take safety over chance any day. Certainty was almost impossible to guarantee, otherwise.

So Sirius opened his mouth to speak, “All’s well mate, I’m open to snogging your wolf anytime.”

Remus looked incredibly pained, “I’m sorry, Sirius.”

_ Stop apologising, _“Snogging is my middle name.”

Remus looked like he was about to cry, “I understand if you don’t want to forgive me—”

_ “Listen to what I’m saying.” _ Sirius commanded. Remus, thankfully, complied. “I’m not mad at you, Remus.” Remus opened his mouth to speak, _ “Shut up.” _Remus shut his mouth again. Sirius resumed, “I’m not mad at you. Do you hear me?” Remus nodded. “What did I just say?”

Remus looked at Sirius sheepishly, “You’re not mad at me.”

“Good lad.” Sirius nodded appreciatively at Remus. “Now, what the fuck just happened.”

Surprisingly, it only took about five minutes for Remus to explain.

Sirius chewed his bottom lip in thought. “I’d snog you anytime you need it, Remus.” Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m serious!” Remus grinned, “Yes, hilarious, okay—seriously though—”

“Sirius indeed.”

“Oh, shut your face.” Sirius scowled. “I’d honestly snog you anytime. It’s the least I can do. As your friend.” Sirius wondered if he’d been subtle enough. “That’s what friends are for.” Remus was looking at him strangely, Sirius coughed. “Because, you know, I’m your friend. Mate. You’re my mate. As in friend, not like mate-mate, like wolf-mate, but like friend-mate—”

Remus began to laugh.

“Yes, thank you, for finding my mortification amusing.”

Remus grinned at Sirius full force. His dimples hit Sirius like twin _ Avada Kedavras. _Sirius knew that snogging Remus again would kill him. He knew. But he’d cross that bridge when he got there. For now, all Sirius could see was an opportunity. An opportunity to indulge in his desires without fucking anything up. Maybe this would get Remus out of his system, once and for all.

_ You’re an idiot, _called James’s voice in his mind.

* * *

Sirius was an idiot. A lovable idiot. Remus snorted.

“Thanks, _ mate, _but I’m good.”

Sirius glanced at Remus’s tented crotch, and then looked at his face incredulously. “Don’t lie.”

The positive side of living a life which was really just a series of unfortunate events was that one developed a tolerance to embarrassment. And so, Remus flushed with mortification only slightly.

“Just get out of the room.”

Sirius raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and mimed himself jerking off.

“Yes, Sirius. _ Now go.” _ Sirius crossed his arms. _ “Leave, Sirius, please.” _

The prevailing problem of Remus’s lycanthropic horniness hadn’t fully subsided. Remus gulped.

“Sirius. I don’t know what I’ll do to you. Leave. Now.”

Sirius scrunched his nose (an action which _ really _ didn’t help Remus’s situation), and said, “Friends should help friends in need.”

Remus looked at him in disbelief, “Sirius, you _ fucking _ idiot. I’m not letting you touch my dick.” Sirius began to pout, “No. Don’t you dare. _ Leave. Now.” _

“But! We’re friends! I’ll use my mouth!”

If Remus wasn’t horny enough to cry, he’d have killed Sirius. As it was, he shot him as heated a glare as he could.

Sirius looked baffled, “Was that a come on?”

Remus snarled in frustration. _ “Get out.” _

“I don’t see what the problem is—”

“That’s because you have the E.Q of a fucking dustmite. Now _ leave. _ ** _Now.”_ **

“Hey, we’re _ friends!—” _

Remus grit his teeth and began striding towards Sirius.

“Wai— yes, okay, I’m ready to fulfill my role as your frien— _ Wha—! Remus you fucking wanker, let go of me!” _

With Sirius over his shoulder, Remus strode towards the door—_“Alohomora.”—_and basically threw Sirius in the hallway. _ “Stay.” _

Then, Remus slammed the door shut, locked it with a quick _ Colloportus, _and proceeded to wank himself into oblivion.

* * *

Sirius sat outside his bedroom, smiling like a loon. Remus was back, and that’s all that mattered really.

James and Peter showed up around an hour later.

“Why’re you sitting out here?” Pete asked.

Sirius grinned, “I enjoy the feeling of my arse on cold stone. It’s a kink of mine.”

Pete looked confused. James rolled his eyes.

“Remus is in there, then?” James nodded towards the bedroom.

Sirius grinned in response and nodded.

“Is he wanking.”

Sirius felt the back of his neck begin to heat. “Yeah.”

James took one look at Sirius’s face and began to howl in laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write smut for lemons (see what I did there), but there you go. 
> 
> On an unrelated note, I got the sudden, bright idea to add stuff to the fanfic summary. Hindsight brought with it great embarrassment, and I am now deleting the additional summary content.
> 
> On a more related note — I really hope the way I wrote this chapter wasn't confusing! I was scared I overdid it with the scene jumps ;(


	13. In Which Remus Deserves An Award.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This really doesn't make much sense, it is utter nonsense. But there you go.
> 
> Side note: I don't speak french, all the french in this chapter is courtesy of google

Marlene took one look at Remus the morning after he arrived at Hogwarts, dropped her fork, squinted her eyes at him and said: “Remus, darling, when the ever-loving _ fuck _ did _ that _happen.” She gestured vaguely at the entirety of Remus’s body.

Remus smiled at her awkwardly, “Ah yes, puberty.”

“_'A__h yes, puberty’ _my arse," she made an appreciative noise, “Not that I’m complaining. Wow.”

Remus felt himself flush, “Oh, hush.”

Marlene mimed herself locking her mouth shut. She tucked the imaginary key in her bra and winked. Remus looked skywards and huffed a breath of laughter, taking his seat opposite her.

Next to Marlene, Giselda spoke up, “You look good, Remus.”

“Uh, thanks,” said Remus, reaching across the table for the scrambled eggs.

“Where’s Stalker #1?” asked Marlene, after a while.

Remus wished he didn’t know who she was talking about. “He’s doing his hair—apparently it requires extra care now that it’s longer.”

Marlene raised an eyebrow, “And Stalkers #2-3?”

Again, Remus wished he could say he hadn’t a clue who she was on about. “They’re finishing their divination homework.”

“I’m surprised Stalker #1 did his divination homework.”

Remus shovelled a pile of bacon in his mouth, “He didhingh,”

“Ew, Remus, manners.” Ying Li said, from his side.

Remus swallowed, “Pardon me—sorry about that Ying Li—he didn’t. He just prioritises his hair.”

Marlene snorted, “Of course he does.”

Giselda giggled, “And he goes around telling everyone it’s natural.”

Remus smiled as he chewed his toast. To be very fair, Sirius’s hair _ was _natural. He just put an inordinate amount of effort into maintaining it. In hindsight, Remus supposed that meant it really wasn’t natural at all.

“Don’t talk about Black so early in the morning.” Lily said, sliding next to Remus.

“Hi Lilghy,” Remus called, through his waffles.

“Remus! Merlin, take some napkins,” Ying Li chastised, wrinkling her nose. Remus smiled at her gratefully. 

“You’re right,” Marlene said to Lily, shovelling more food onto Remus’s plate, “Let’s talk about James instead,”

Lily scowled and began to butter her toast, “It’s good to have you back, Remus. How’s your mum?”

“It’s good to be back, Lils—my mum’s fine, thanks for asking.” Remus grinned.

Giselda pushed the chocolate croissants closer to Remus, “I missed your dimples.”

“Awe, Giselda,” Remus laughed, “I missed your freckles,”

“I missed _ your _freckles,”

Marlene looked at Remus. “I missed your face. But I like this update. Nice.”

Remus rolled his eyes and bit into a croissant. Ying Li narrowed her eyes at him. Remus made sure to swallow before opening his mouth. “Uh, okay.”

Marlene smiled beguilingly. Lily rolled her eyes.

“Have you heard the new Marvin Gaye?” Lily asked Remus.

Remus looked at Lily, “Have I heard the new sex anthem of the decade?”

Lily grinned at Remus, “Well? _ Have _you heard the new sex anthem of the decade?”

“They’re being Muggle nerds.” Marlene explained to Ying Li and Giselda. 

Remus ignored this and responded to Lily, “Yes, you plonker, I’ve heard the new sex anthem of the decade.”

“It’s nice isn’t it?” Lily asked, and then in a lowered tone she admitted: “It made me kind of frisky.”

“The image of you being frisky made me the least frisky I’ve ever felt in my entire life.” Remus shuddered.

Lily shook her head with pity, “And people think you’re nice.”

“He can’t help it Lils—the image of you being frisky is enough to turn anyone off.” Marlene sniggered. 

“You shush.” Lily said, taking a bite out of her toast.

“I—I’m not turned off by your friskiness,” Olliver blurted.

_ Wow. That’s so incredibly awkward. _Remus thought, as he drank his pumpkin juice.

“Thanks Ollie,” Lily smiled. 

Olliver blushed. Remus felt a tad touched by this display of innocent youthful indiscretion. He also felt equal parts amused and sympathetic towards James. Mostly though, he felt terribly thankful that this awkward situation was happening to Lily and not him.

“Aww, Ollie,” Marlene gushed. Olliver flushed darker and looked at Remus with pleading eyes.

_ I’ve got you my mate—_“Marlene.” Remus said, as he cut into his poached eggs. 

Marlene pouted and retracted her arm from around Ollie’s shoulders. Then, Marlene—ever the chaos loving demon—opened her mouth, “So, James is, like, sooo fit.”

Around them, there were murmurs of agreement. Lily glared at her toast and began to butter it harder. Marlene smirked.

Remus, for his part, chewed carefully on his second chocolate croissant. 

Marlene continued, “Lauri said that he was _ sooo _ nice to her on their date last weekend,”—Lily’s toast was absolutely drowning in butter—“And she said that he was a _ great _kisser.” Lily threw her toast down—rather viciously, Remus noted—on her plate.

Processing Marlene’s words, Remus looked up in surprise. _ James on a date? With someone other than Lily? _This was news to Remus. He looked nervously at Lily, who had begun to stab her toast with her butter knife. Remus gave Marlene a significant look. Marlene glanced pointedly at Lily, rolled her eyes, and continued.

“And she was going on, and _ on _ about how _ handsome _he looked in his weekend clothe—” Lily scoffed. “Yes? Lily? Do you have something to add?”

“Not particularly.”

Remus groaned inwardly and shovelled some dry cereal in his mouth. Ying Li sighed and passed him a glass of milk. Giselda gave him the rest of her strawberries. Remus grinned at them both and continued to eat.

Marlene was looking at Lily like she was prey. “Lauri said—”

“Lauri’s an idiot to have agreed to go out with Potter.”

“I thought you didn’t have anything in particular to add.” Marlene replied, monotone.

“I don’t.”

Marlene looked at Lily. She then looked at Remus. Remus gave her a look of warning.

“Riiiiighhhhht. Lauri’s an idiot for agreeing to go out with the fittest bloke in our year—”

(“Remus, eat some more protein.” Giselda said, putting some sausages onto Remus’s plate and smacking his hand away from another chocolate croissant.)

“Potter isn’t the fittest bloke in our year.” Lily replied, hotly.

“Merlin, Lily, you sound like Sir—”

(“No, Remus! You’ve already had—what, three? They’re not good for you—here, take some oranges instead.” Ying Li said, moving the plate of chocolate croissants away from Remus.)

“You’re always going on about how _ Sirius _ is the fittest in our year.” Lily glared at Marlene.

“Lily, love, there’s no such thing as a singularly objective _ fittest. _No. There is a spectrum of fitness. Both Sirius and James are very far along the ‘oh yes, fuck me,’ side of that spectrum.”

Remus grimaced as he looked at Marlene. “Do you mind?”

Marlene grinned, “Don’t worry sweetheart, you’re on the ‘oh yes, fuck me,’ side as well.”

Remus smiled sardonically, “Achievement of my life.”

Marlene blew him a kiss.

Lily, meanwhile, moved the mush of bread, butter and who-knows-what around on her plate. Remus nudged her gently.

“Whatever.” she muttered, her expression dour.

Remus kicked Marlene lightly under the table. Marlene looked up at him from below her eyelashes, “Was that an invitation to play footsie.”

Remus choked a bit on his sausage. “You are an _ absolute _nightmare, Marlene.” he laughed.

“You know it, babe.” she replied.

* * *

“Wait. What’s the name of the brightest star in the sky again?” James asked, wrinkling his nose.

“It’s Sirius, you giant numpty.” Sirius replied, adjusting his hair in the mirror.

James looked at him, “Sirius, mate, you look like a harpy.”

Peter laughed as Sirius flipped James off. “Better than looking like a Sasquatch.”

“Fair.” James said, running a hand through his hair. “Sirius, can I divine your death? I need at least an E on this.”

“Only if you make it sexy.”

James tapped his quill on his parchment a few times. “Tentacles. You got it.”

Sirius grinned, “Nice.”

Peter, in the meanwhile, shuddered. “I wish I didn’t know what that meant.” he lamented.

James patted him on the back in consolation. 

Sirius snarled at his reflection—_S__hite. I _ _ do _ _ look like a harpy. _

* * *

“Um, Professor, I really don’t think putting us in the same group—” Remus tried, helplessly, to warn Kettleburn.

“Shut up Remus,” Sirius said, crossing his arms like the petulant child that he is. 

Remus looked at him incredulously. Sirius pouted back—his hair made him look like a harpy. Remus swallowed a laugh. Sirius noticed, like he always did, and consequently began to scowl.

“Ignore him, Professor Kettleburn, he’s a bit peevish because of this morning,” James said, stretching his arms above his head.

“What did you do to him this morning?” Kettleburn asked, intrigued despite himself.

Sirius tucked a lock of strangely arranged hair behind his ear. “We woke him up.”

Remus sighed and looked at Kettleburn. Kettleburn smiled back, amused. “How unexpected, Remus, for you to be a heavy sleeper,”

Remus felt his ears begin to heat, “Uh, I’m not Professor—anyway, putting us all in the same group—”

“Shut _ up, _Remus.” James said, through gritted teeth.

“You shut up, James. Do you really want Euphemia to send you another howler.”

James cuffed Remus on the back of the head, _ “You _shut up. You’d be bored to death without us.”

This was, unfortunately, more true than Remus cared to admit. And so, Remus didn’t admit it and instead poked James in the stomach.

“Let’s just start,” Peter said, beginning to gather the materials they required for the lesson.

And this was enough to surprise the others into action.

“Wait, what are we actually meant to be doing.” Sirius asked in a low voice. 

“Mate, why are you asking me? Under what circumstances would I ever be able to answer.” James muttered back. 

“We’re feeding nifflers.” Remus replied, pulling on Sirius and James’s ears with either hand. “Listen in class.”

“You’re so hot when you’re being a pedantic arsehole, Remus.” James admired.

Remus sighed, “You’re so hot when you’re letting me live in peace, James.”

Sirius smiled smugly, “So he’s never hot then.”

Peter looked up at them, “By that logic, you’re never hot either, Sirius.”

Sirius frowned and opened his mouth to no doubt begin the usual tirade regarding his beauty. Remus glanced over at the other groups. Everyone was well on their way to befriending their assigned niffler. Remus wished that he could say his own group was at least trying, but the truth of the matter was that they really weren’t trying at all. Their niffler was still somewhere inside his burrow.

Remus let go of Sirius and James and thought fast, “Your hair is so hot, Sirius.”

Sirius looked at Remus in disbelief. James looked at Remus in disbelief, as well. Remus wondered briefly if this meant that he should be nicer to Sirius.

Pushing through, Remus continued, “Your new hairstyle has a certain...uh… _ je ne sais quoi.” _

James began to laugh, “I agree, it’s impossible to tell whether you’re a harpy or a human.”

Sirius scowled at James, “It’s called _ fashion, _you neanderthal.”

Remus bit the inside of his cheek and winked surreptitiously at James. “Shut up James. Sirius’s new hair is… nice. It’s…”—_uh_—“_avant garde._” 

Sirius began to preen. Remus felt a tad guilty doing this. Sirius’s hair wasn’t _ that _bad. Sirius flicked a strand of hair backwards. Instead of resting lightly on the top of his head, it remained at a stiff angle and made it seem as if a crooked black rod was protruding from Sirius’s skull.

Remus willed back his laughter.

“Remus.” Peter whispered. Remus looked over to him, Pete continued, “What are you doing?”

Remus smiled in a way he hoped was mysterious, but knew, unfortunately, made him look like he was trying to withhold a fart.

“And it’s so _ shiny.” _ Remus gushed to Sirius. Sirius’s cheeks began to redden. Remus really did feel a bit guilty doing this. Only a bit though. “I wonder if it’s shiny enough to attract a niffler.”

“Pfffffftttttttt—” James doubled over.

Sirius looked extraordinarily betrayed. Remus tried very hard to maintain an innocent facade.

“Imagine how _ amazing _it would be if you could attract a niffler… with your hair…” Remus trailed off, shrugging casually (or perhaps awkwardly was the more accurate word).

“You’re all horrible.” Sirius sulked.

Remus swallowed a breath of laughter, “But if you could… it’d be amazing.”

“Attractive.” James nodded, at Remus’s side.

“Tantalising.” Remus hummed.

“Sexy.” James moaned.

“Titillating,” Remus rasped.

“What is happening.” Peter asked, horrified.

“It would be so _ sensual.” _ James continued, gasping. (From a few meters away, Sanam Raichand side-eyed him.)

Remus bit his lip. “Saucy.” he murmured, lowering his tone.

James burst out laughing, “Saucy? _ Saucy? _Pffffftttttttt—Sirius oh my god why are you blushing,”

Remus raised an eyebrow at James, gestured towards Sirius, and grinned, “Saucy.”

“Move out of my way, then.” Sirius acquiesced, his neck completely pink, “Let’s get this bastard out of his hole.”

* * *

Sirius wasn’t doing this to impress anyone in particular. Obviously, both Remus and James were just fucking around.

And obviously, Sirius wasn’t doing this to impress anyone. Obviously. _ Obviously. _

In theory though, if he _ did _ actually manage to attract the niffler with his hair… now that _ would _be impressive, wouldn’t it?

It’d be _ really _ impressive. Really, _ really _impressive. Impressive enough that certain people—who were currently dicking around—would be genuinely affected.

Sirius wasn’t doing this for anyone in particular.

In theory though, if Sirius _ was _… 

On his knees in the dirt, Sirius looked at the niffer’s burrow in disinterest. _ The things I do _ theoretically _ for love. _

Then, Sirius shoved the top of his head inside the hole.

“I don’t understand what’s going on.” Peter whispered.

“That’s natural, mate.” James replied.

“I’m a bit horrified that things have progressed this far.” Remus said.

“Yes, that explains why you’re smiling.” James noted.

“I can’t help it, you knob—Sirius stuck his fucking head down a niffler’s burrow.”

“You don’t love us anymore, Remus.” James bemoaned. “You don’t care if we die accidentally.”

“Can you blame me?” was Remus’s shocking reply.

“What the _ fuck._” Sirius called, looking up at Remus from his upside down position.

Remus smiled back. His nostrils looked really cute from this new angle. Sirius wondered when he was going to stop discovering new lovely things about Remus.

“Can you blame me?” Remus repeated, staring directly at Sirius.

Sirius flushed in anger (and also because all the blood was rushing to his head due to Gravy-Tee). “Yes, you fucker.”

“You can’t stop loving us, Remus,” Peter objected.

“I do what I want.”

“Oohh, Remus you rebel.” James snickered.

“This isn’t funny.” Sirius said, his palms on either side of his head.

“This is hilarious, and you know it.” Remus countered.

Sirius glared up at Remus. It was a bit hard, given that Remus’s stupid fucking nostrils were still adorably in view. There was also the fact that Sirius’s position had begun to give him a headache.

Remus sighed in a long-suffering manner, which was rich of him given that he was the one going around giving Sirius premature heart attacks.“Nifflers are harmless Sirius.” Sirius sniffed. Remus looked skyward. “I still love you, loser.”

Sirius’s heart skipped a beat. He almost wished Remus hadn’t said that—it’s not like he’d meant it in the way that mattered. That being said, Sirius was secretly almost as big a masochist as Lucy.

“That wasn’t a very romantic confession.” Sirius retorted, as the rational part of his brain screamed at him to shut up.

Remus rolled his eyes, “Oh Sirius, thou great fucking idiot, I loveth thee as much as I loveth ballpoint pens.”

Sirius absolutely did not blush. He absolutely did not.

“Kettleburn is looking at us.” Peter said, a bit frantically.

“Ah shite, Sirius get with it, will you?” James slapped Sirius’s arse.

And because Sirius had people he _ theoretically _ wanted to impress, he did, indeed, get with it.

“Come out, come out, you bastard.” Sirius called as he rotated his head from side to side in the hole.

“Remus, why are you laughing?” asked Peter.

“There’s no light in the burrow.”

_ Ah. Fuck. _

“No shit.” James replied. Then, after a while, “Oh. Right.” 

“I don’t understand.” Peter said, sadly.

“Sirius’s hair isn’t going to shine in the dark.” Remus explained, “He isn’t going to attract any nifflers this way.”

Something in Sirius took this as a personal challenge. He took his wand out of his back pocket and shoved it down the minuscule gap between the top of his head and the side of the burrow. _ “Lumos.” _

Remus, Peter and James began applauding.

“There’s a smart lad,” James said appreciatively, giving Sirius’s arse another smack.

“Come out you stupid bastard.” Sirius called, again.

It took approximately two minutes for the niffler to begin pulling on Sirius’s hair. Sirius silently vowed to shave all of the fur off the niffler if it so much as pulled even one strand of hair out of his scalp. Slowly, carefully, like how Merlin had emerged, at the break of dawn, from the hills of Camelot sitting atop a grand dragon, Sirius emerged from the burrow with a niffler sitting atop his head.

“Well,” James looked at the niffler on Sirius’s head. “That’s kind of cute.”

Remus grinned, “Saucy.”

“His name,” Sirius announced, the wind blowing around him, “Is Basil.”

Peter fed Basil some lettuce. 

* * *

“No, Sirius. You can’t bring Basil back to our dorm.” Remus repeated, feeling his soul escape from his body.

“We live in a free world.” Sirius crossed his arms, Basil still atop his head.

Remus swallowed a scream. “I will lock you out.”

“Was that a challenge.” Sirius’s eyes glint mercury.

Remus knew better than to say yes. “Yes.”

Sirius smirked and Remus died a little on the inside.

* * *

“You can’t just hog Remus.” Cissa hissed, her talons digging into Sirius’s arm.

_ Watch me, you crazy bint—_“I don’t know what you’re on about.” Sirius glared at her.

“Then get out of my way.”

“Fuck you.”

Cissa smiled down at him. Sirius felt a chill go down his spine. “I could destroy your entire life without lifting a single finger.”

Sirius was properly scared of only two and a half people. Amongst these people included Minnie, when she was genuinely angry, and Cissa, when she was being a psychopath. Cissa, currently, was very much being a psychopath.

“I’m not scared of you.” Sirius lied, like a liar.

Cissa’s smile began to very slowly turn into a snarl.

“Oh, hey Cissa,” Remus called from somewhere behind Sirius.

Sirius grit his teeth and cursed his fate. Why did Remus have to be such a bloody fast eater?

Cissa squeezed Sirius’s arm viciously and let go. “Hey Remus,” she smiled. Sirius shuddered at the complete turn Cissa’s personality had taken. She really was fucking insane.

Cissa walked forward and hugged Remus. Sirius glared at the back of her head.

“You’re almost my height,” Cissa noted, her fucking arms still around Remus’s body. Sirius didn’t understand why she was still hugging him. Sirius didn’t even know where she’d learnt to hug people. It’s not like she’d ever been hugged by her parents. (Or maybe she had. Sirius wasn’t sure if he could accurately extrapolate from Walby and Oreo’s example of shitty parenting.)

“Puberty.” Remus explained to Cissa.

“You’re going to make Lucy cry if you keep hugging Remus.” Sirius said, through gritted teeth.

“All the more reason to continue.” Cissa shot back.

_ So help me, you— _

Remus laughed and pushed Cissa off. “You cut your hair. It looks nice.”

“I know.” Cissa said, moving her dirty hand to Remus’s soft curls. “You, on the other hand, _ haven’t _cut your hair.”

“Puberty.” Remus said, again.

“You’re lucky your curls are pretty.”

“I know.” Remus winked, grinning.

Sirius hated it with a passion when they spoke to each other like this. As if it was impossible to interfere. As if they existed in their own private bubble. As if Remus had a life outside Sirius, even though he consumed every second of Sirius’s existence.

Sirius hated it. Immensely. He took hold of Remus’s arm. “‘Kay see you, Cissa.” 

“Don’t be pathetic, Sirius.” Cissa drawled unpleasantly.

Sirius would have hit her if he wasn’t terrified of what she’d do to him in response.

“You go ahead, Sirius—I’ll meet you back in the dorms in a while,” Remus said to him.

“No. We’re going together.”

Remus sighed and looked at Sirius, “Sirius, mate.”

“What. _ Mate.” _The word carried a heavy memory.

Remus stepped away from Sirius hurriedly. _ Well, there goes my heart—_Sirius scowled.

“Don’t be a child.” Cissa sneered. _ “Bye.” _

“Bye yourself.” Sirius snarled at her, pulling Remus closer to him.

“That doesn’t even make sense, you idiot.”

“Sirius. _ Please.” _Remus pleaded, his stupid eyes the hypnotising colour of dark honey.

Without quite realising what he was doing, Sirius moved his hand towards Remus’s face. His fingers touched the scar across Remus’s nose—so lightly he was barely making any contact at all. Sirius stood there, startled, as he always was, by the intensity of the sensation. Wanting nothing more than to replace his fingers with his lips. And then, wanting nothing more than to stop feeling this way.

“Sirius?” Remus repeated, a hint of panic in his eyes.

With more than a little regret, Sirius retracted his hand from Remus’s scar and moved it, as casually as he could, to flick his hair back. It was then he remembered that he hadn’t yet washed off the hair potion he’d put on this morning. Stepping away from Remus, and feeling an odd sense of defeat, Sirius mumbled, “Whatever.”

Remus sighed a breath of relief. Which hurt Sirius, a bit. 

(Only a bit!)

Cissa was looking at Sirius with that annoying look on her face which meant that she knew exactly what was going on inside his mind. Understandably, Sirius scowled and flipped her off.

_ “Oh, les essais de l’amour.” _she trilled.

_ “Ta gueule.” _Sirius snapped, turning away.

Cissa—_fuck her_—laughed, “You’re almost cute, Sirius. _ Au fait, tes cheveux te font ressembler à une harpie.” _

“I heard the word harpy.” Remus said, glancing between Cissa and Sirius.

Sirius scowled at the floor.

Cissa turned to Remus and ruffled his curls. Pointing towards Sirius, she smiled, _ “Sans couilles, non?” _

“I have no idea what you just said.” 

Cissa smirked down at Remus and said: _ “Il est amoureux de toi, mon chou.” _

Sirius’s heart skipped a few beats. _ “Va te faire foutre.” _he snarled. 

Remus sighed and rubbed his eye with his right hand. “Bonjour, je m'appelle Remus,”

Cissa laughed, “Is that all you can say?”

“Je t’aime chocolat.”

_ ‘I love you chocolate.’ _Remus was going to be the end of Sirius. Sirius scowled at the look Cissa gave him and began to walk away.

_ “Ne me quitte pas~” _ Cissa sang behind him, _ “Je n’vais plus pleurer~” _

“Go suck Lucy’s arse.” Sirius yelled, walking faster.

* * *

“Lycanthropic puberty.” Cissa murmured.

“Lycanthropic puberty.” Remus repeated.

“And your heat cycles?”

Remus winced in a way he hoped was subtle. “What of them?”

Cissa raised an eyebrow. This meant, unfortunately, that she had noticed Remus’s wince.

Remus shrugged. “They’re fine now.” _ Probably. _

Cissa looked at Remus. Remus shrugged again, all the while thinking: _P__lease just let it go. _

Because Cissa was a classy witch, she did, indeed, let it go. “How was your first day back?”

Remus breathed a sigh of relief. “Exhausting. I have so much to catch up on.”

“It’s cute how you think I’m talking about school.”

“I could say the same to you.”

_ “Touché.” _

Remus smiled, “Everyone’s the same. But also puberty, you know?”

“Eloquent as always, darling.”

“Shut up. How’s Lucius?”

Cissa blushed, “Insufferable.”

Remus waggled his eyebrows.

“Don’t make me hex your face.” Cissa warned.

“Ooh. I’m terrified.”

“You should be.”

“I am.”

“So how was your first defence against the dark arts lesson?”

“It was really interesting,”

“And your first meal back in the great hall?”

“Nice. Filling.”

“Your first shower?”

“Wow, we’re playing twenty questions.”

“I’ve asked you three questions. Why can none of you seem to count?”

“It’s a Muggle thing—”

“I don’t care.” Cissa scanned Remus from head to toe, “Did you buy new robes for this year?”

“They were too expensive,” Remus admitted, sheepishly, “My dad transfigured my old ones,”

“Transfigurations ruin the threading in cloth—I’ll buy you new robes,”

“No, Cissa—”

“And what about Pomfrey? Is she up to date with your health concerns?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Remus yawned, the long day he’d had finally catching up to him.

Cissa narrowed her eyes.

“I’m just kidding, she probably is.” Remus corrected, smiling.

“You’ve been influenced by Dromeda.”

“Probably.”

“What did you think of Dora?”

Remus thought back to the baby. “I would die for her.”

Cissa nodded. “I would kill for her.”

“Wow, look at us.” Remus reflected. “She’s adorable.”

“She’s gone on me, of course she is.”

“Seriously though, Cissa, I can’t accept new robes from you—”

“And how’s Sirius?”

Remus sighed, “The same as always, I suppose.”

Cissa hummed. “His hair’s longer.”

“Yeah.”

“And how was the kiss?”

“Really hot—_oh my fucking god, Cissa, what the fuck—” _

Cissa grinned devilishly. “Aha.”

Remus resisted the urge to dig a hole in the ground and crawl into it for the rest of conceivable eternity. 

_ “How could you tell?” _he whispered, frantically.

Along with being a classy witch, Cissa was also, unfortunately, a bit of an arsehole. “Lycanthropic puberty.” she smirked.

_ “Shhh!” _ Remus shushed, _ “You can’t tell anyone!” _

“Don’t be dramatic.”

Remus stared at Cissa imploringly.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Cissa rolled her eyes. “How did it happen, anyway?”

Remus looked into the distance, wishing that he had been born as a dung beetle. At least then he could have enjoyed the heaping pile of shit he regularly found himself in.

“Hallo?” Cissa waved her hand in front of Remus’s face.

“It was an accident.” Remus explained, miserably. “He was snogging a girl in our dorm when I walked in. The pheromones in the air must have excited my heat.”

“You kissed Sirius.”

Remus nodded, finding it impossible to make eye contact with her. 

“Thanks for the confirmation, I wasn’t completely sure it was him.”

Remus groaned into his open palms.

Cissa touched his shoulder, “And you thought the kiss was really hot.”

Remus groaned louder. “Cissa. Shut up.”

“It’s not necessarily a bad thing, you loser.”

Remus looked up from his palms. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Cissa blinked at him a few times. “Has anyone mentioned that your entire image has changed.”

Remus sniffed, “What, do I look more like a werewolf now?”

Cissa smirked, “You look sexier.”

Remus grimaced, “Okay.”

_ “‘Thank you, Cissa. I appreciate the compliment, Cissa.’” _

“Thank you, Cissa, for making me so uncomfortable.”

“Anytime, Remus.”

* * *

James sighed loudly in frustration. “Fuck. Where is it?!”

What he was looking for, Sirius noted with disinterest, was his invisibility cloak. Sirius blew a strand of wet hair out of his eyes.

“Have any of you seen it?”

Sirius was in a particularly vicious mood. “Yes, James. I’ve seen your invisible invisibility cloak.”

James threw a pillow at Sirius’s head. “Thanks for the help, wanker.”

Sirius flipped him off and lay face down on his bed. Basil squirmed somewhere under his pillow.

“Peter, have you seen it?” James asked, frustrated.

Sirius lifted his head up from the bed, “_N__obody’s _seen it, you knob. It’s a fucking invisibility cloak.”

James threw another pillow at Sirius. “If you have nothing productive to add, shut the fuck up or so help me.” 

“I haven’t seen it, James.” Peter chimed, from his bed.

Sirius gestured towards Peter and looked pointedly at James: _ What did I say. _

James threw his shoe at Sirius’s head. Which, honestly, was a bit excessive, but whatever. 

* * *

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sirius, what the fuck did I say about Basil.”

“That he’s saucy?”

“I said that about _ you.” _Remus sighed.

“Oh.” Sirius mumbled, looking way too pleased for someone who had secretly smuggled a magical creature into their dorm.

Remus fought an exhausted yawn as he looked around the room. Inconceivably, Sirius, James and Peter, clothed in only their underwear, were sitting atop a single bed. A single bed which belonged to neither of the three because it was, in fact, Remus’s bed. Remus really couldn’t deal with this shit right now. 

“Get off my bed.”

“We can’t.” James said.

Remus threw his hands into the air and repressed a well deserved scream.

“Hear us out—” Sirius began.

Remus shot him a look: _ Shut up. _

For approximately thirty seconds, there was silence.

Remus took a deep, calming breath and opened his mouth, “Let me guess.”

“Rem—” Peter tried.

Remus scanned the room. James’s wardrobe was open, and there were clothes all over the floor. “James lost his invisibility cloak.”

“_Misplaced_.” James corrected.

Basil squirmed in Sirius’s lap. Remus dearly hoped that he wouldn’t piss on the mattress.

“Remu—” Peter tried, again.

“And you’re all half naked presumably because James accused you both of hiding the invisibility cloak under your clothes and things escalated out of control.”

“Actually," Sirius said, leaning back on the headboard, "We were getting ready to have an orgy.”

“On my bed.”

“Where else?” James asked.

“Get off my bed.” Remus sighed, rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes.

“Remus,” Peter said.

“Yeah, mate?”

“Uh,” Peter glanced nervously at Sirius and James. “They ate your chocolate.”

** _“What.”_ **

Sirius and James turned to glare at Peter. With irritation seeping out of his pores, Remus began to walk towards his bed. Every step seemed to make him angrier.

“Remus, mate, listen—” James started, struggling to get away from Remus fast enough. 

Remus could not fucking believe that they had eaten his chocolate. Remus could deal with a lot of fucking shit. His chocolate, however, was his limit.

“James ate most of it!” Sirius squealed, tripping over his legs in haste.

** _“Get back on the bed.” _ ** Sirius returned to the mattress. ** _“Both of you.” _ **James returned to the mattress as well. Remus counted to seven in his head. “You’re all going to sleep on this bed tonight.”

“Me too?” Peter asked, pointing to himself and glancing at Sirius and James in anxiety.

Remus paused, “You can sleep on your own bed.”

“Wha—” Sirius opened his mouth, indignant.

** _“Sirius.”_ **

James rubbed his elbow, “Uh—”

“Good night, James.” Remus interrupted.

“Wai— my invisibility cloa—”

_ “Good night, James.” _

“You’re scary, Remus.” Sirius whined.

_ “Good night, Sirius.” _

Remus switched off the lights and made his way to Sirius’s bed. On the way, his foot caught on the unmistakable fabric of James’s invisibility cloak. As Remus was picking it up, a single piece of bread fell out of the tumble of cloth. Remus looked at it in confusion for a while and then decided that he didn’t give a shit. He shoved the cloak in James’s wardrobe.

“Awe, cheers mate, you found it?”

_ “Good night, James.” _

Remus made himself comfortable on Sirius’s mattress. The smell which enveloped him was so gentle that sleep came almost instantly.

“Wait, lads,” James called.

_ “Good night, Jame—” _

“Oh shut up.” 

Remus was done. He was done. He pulled the covers over his head.

“I need to sneak out and meet Sakura tomorrow night—what’s the fastest route to the Ravenclaw common room?”

“The fastest route is through the back of the west wing, isn’t it?” Peter said.

“But Filch’s demon cat is always there, it’s impossible to not get caught.” Sirius countered.

“Maybe I should put a tracking charm on her,”

“That’s such a pain, mate,”

“Hmm… that’s true.”

“It’d sure be useful if you could know where she was, though,” Peter yawned.

Remus pulled a pillow over his head to block out the sound.

“Imagine how useful a map would be…” Peter’s voice said.

Remus drifted away. 

That night, he dreamt of four figures sneaking through the night, from one place to the next. Scanning their surroundings with a shrewd eye. Pocketing whatever they desired to possess. A silent raid; the perfect crime.

The scene of a marauder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring:
> 
> 'Let's get it on' by Marvin Gaye (released 1973 ;))
> 
> 'Ne me quitte pas' by Jacques Brel.


	14. Roll home, like pebbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I.... have no excuse. I've been free as a bird these past few weeks because of quarantine. And that excess of freedom has completely butchered my sleep cycle and my ability to be a functioning human being. So... yes. Essentially, I procrastinated, and I apologise for the undeserved delay. 
> 
> Here are some relevant definitions for this chapter:
> 
> Tantalean Punishment:  
A Greek proverb derived from the story of Tantalus — a man condemned to eternal punishment in Tartarus (Greek Hell). His punishment included being made to stand in a pool of water underneath a fruit tree with low branches. The fruit was just out of reach, and every time he attempted to drink the water, the lake would recede. In summary, Tantalean punishments describe those who are in possession of good things but are unable to enjoy them.
> 
> For more on Tantalus: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tantalus
> 
> Perses:  
A Titan God in Greek Mythology. He represented both destruction and peace.
> 
> It's a head canon of mine that Pureblood British society is strongly familiar with Greek Mythology. Don't ask me why. It just feels right.

“Guys.” Peter gasped.

Sirius was too busy staring at Remus’s sleeping face to answer.

_ “Guys!” _Pete repeated.

Remus’s finger twitched in his sleep. Sirius wondered what he was dreaming about. _ Dream about me, _ Sirius screamed in his mind, _D__ream a thousand dreams about me. Let me do to you in your dreams what I’d never do to you in reality. _

Remus slept on. The image of him was devastating beyond words.

Wanting, inexplicably, to be devastated further, Sirius imagined slipping his hand into Remus’s. He managed to stop himself, just, at the last moment, because doing so would have been Creepy, and Sirius Black was _ never _ Creepy, ** _ever._ **

Sirius was just—just… _ ugh. _

“Hey, Sirius! James!”

“What, Pete.” James said, as he stuffed his parchments into his rucksack.

“We should make a map!” Pete exclaimed, his sweater on backwards.

The sound of a small huff called Sirius’s attention back to Remus. As expected, he was still asleep. Sirius glanced down at Remus’s lips. He knew now, from excruciating experience, that they were even softer than they looked—if that was even possible.

Sirius sat on the floor next to Remus’s bed. Remus looked so innocent like this. Vulnerable, young. So different to how he looked when he was awake and all his defences were up. Hearing his own heartbeat in his ears, Sirius traced the scars on Remus’s face with his eyes.

“What time is it?” Sirius asked, feeling like the biggest daredevil in the world with his face only about thirty centimeters away from Remus’s.

“Eight,” Peter replied, “Anyway, guys, _ a map—” _

Only about thirty minutes till Sirius had to wake Remus up. Remus’s lashes hung dark and heavy against his cheek. _ He’s drooling, _Sirius realised, his heart giving a little throb.

With Remus asleep like this, and no-one paying attention to them, Sirius tried to commit the sight of Remus’s face to memory. His new goal was to stop looking at Remus so much throughout the day lest Remus find out, and Sirius’s deepest fears become realised.

This way—by staring at Remus in the peaceful moment when he slept and Sirius’s heart had enough space to just _ breathe_—Sirius hoped to control himself. The problem, he was realising, was that his desire (and yes, fine, by this point Sirius could admit, in the deepest, darkest corners of his mind, that it _ was _desire) was a Tantalean punishment. And like all Tantalean punishments, the proximity of the unreachable made the thirst worse.

Staring at Remus just made Sirius want to look at him even more. It made Sirius want to reach out and touch him. Remus, who was _ right there _ but all the same a galaxy away. 

And Sirius couldn’t just _ touch _him. Not without Remus knowing. Never without Remus knowing. Or for that matter, never at all. The very thought existed in the land of Never-Ever Afters, along with all the other impossible possibles—or was it possible impossibles?

Sirius confused himself sometimes—it was difficult being brilliant. 

“A map? Of Hogwarts?” James asked Peter.

“And of everyone _ in _Hogwarts,” Peter continued, excited.

This caught Sirius’s attention. “Like a school-wide tracking spell?”

Peter nodded, bouncing up and down on his feet.

James frowned in thought, “That’s really complicated spell-work.”

Sirius hummed in agreement. His eyes—for they possessed a mind of their own, and the mind which they possessed was hell-bent on destroying Sirius—trailed back to Remus.

Sirius looked down at Remus’s hand. And then at his own. And then back at Remus’s. It was strange… it almost seemed like—to Sirius’s crazed mind—that their hands were perfectly complementary. The curve of Sirius’s fingers seemed to be molded impeccably against the shape of Remus’s hand. 

Like jigsaw pieces. Human jigsaw pieces. Human jigsaw pieces of friendship and maybe, secretly, something a bit further than friendship, but nobody had to _ know _ that, did they? Nobody had to _ know _ that these jigsaw pieces of fingers and friendship might, possibly, be something, secretly—_secretly!—_more than friendship. These Jigsaw Pieces of Friendship, which were so perfect for each other that it was like they’d existed, once upon a time, connected, and some outside force—jealous of such perfect harmony—had split them apart.

(Sirius refused to properly think the logistics of that analogy through. His mind was too brilliant for its own good, sometimes.)

Sirius knew that he was being a bit pathetic—he did, honestly—but he was swimming so deep in The Abyss of Look At How Pitiful and Also Beautiful Sirius Black Is that he didn’t much care.

_ ‘Lo and Behold,’ _ some part of his mind laughed at him, ‘_Sirius Black—alleged connoisseur of carnal desires—losing his sanity over a hand.’ _

Sirius really did hate his mind sometimes. It wasn’t just _ a _ hand. It was _ Remus’s _hand. 

(The distinction was important.)

(... And Sirius was having an argument with himself.)

(Frankly, Sirius was going insane.)

“But—” Pete started, “Sirius! You could track Re— uh, anyone you want, um, during important times, like, er, the full moon,” Pete finished, lamely. 

“Don’t encourage his creepiness, Pete.” James called, from his wardrobe.

In a burst of pure benevolence, Sirius decided to ignore the conversation which was just transpired. “What time is it?”

“Half past,” Peter replied.

“Okay lads,” James looked over at Remus, “Whose turn is it?” 

“Mine, you idiot.” Sirius answered, “Why do you think I’ve been sitting here?”

James looked at Sirius, “Do you really want me to answer that.”

Sirius scowled and looked back at the bed, in which lay his very own Perses, all destruction and peace, and sarcasm and kindness, and berries, and curls, and freckles—seventy-six to be exact—and _ god, it just _ had _ to be freckles—_and _ scars _ and _ come _ ON! _ It’s like he was _ made _ to be the end of me. It’s like he was _ made _ to be my beginning and my end and my middle and all that other stuff and _ god, _ like, how unfair is _ that?! _ Who gave him the right to just—just, _ walk in here _ and _exist—

“Sirius. Mate. Get with it.” James called.

“Fuck off.” Sirius snapped, running a hand over his face. Then, he pointed his wand at Remus’s face and said, simply, and as always: _ “Aguamenti.” _

* * *

As he narrowly avoided permanently maiming Sirius, Remus felt an odd sense of loss. Like something was slipping, vaguely, from his fingers.

Remus tried to rack his memory, he felt certain that it was something he’d just dreamt about. Something… something… something _ loud _ and _ annoying _and why was Remus wasting effort trying to remember this loud and annoying thing, again?

But… something… something scared, and awkward, and so very dear. What was it? What was it, what was it?

“Twenty-five to, mate.” James called, “There goes breakfast.”

Something Remus didn’t recognise, not exactly, but something Remus knew… something… _ desperate, _ and _ lovely _ and something that felt… something that just felt so _ right _that Remus knew it had to be wrong. Nothing had ever felt that very right before. 

_ What is it? _

Something stupid. Something heart-wrenchingly stupid. But… _ yeah, _ Remus thought that maybe the stupidness just made the something all that more perfect. Because it was something perfect. It was something perfect, and chaotic, and chaos… chaos… _ this chaos, _Remus knew… he knew this chaos from… somewhere… some—

_ “Aguamenti.” _

Cold, unforgiving water splashed Remus in the middle of his face.

_ “I was awa—” _

“Uh, no, you were sleeping with your eyes open.” Sirius interrupted.

And as Remus dressed and rushed downstairs, The Something slipped—unnoticed but not unfelt—from his fingers.

And for the life of him, Remus couldn’t explain the hollow sensation in his chest. 

* * *

“Music!” announced Professor Ferriastrus Iron.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at James: _‘Music.’ _

James rolled his eyes: _ Not like that—_and raised an eyebrow back: _ ‘Music!’ _

It was hard to take Iron seriously (pun _ not _intended). There were too many exclamation marks in her speech.

“What do you know, Mr Black, about _ Music!” _Iron called. (This was another thing she did—she called on her students. Avoiding eye contact with her was a skill.)

“My voice,” Sirius started, “Is music to your ears.” he finished, to a spattering of titters across the classroom.

“You have a pleasing timbre, that is true,” Iron acquiesced, eyeing Sirius, “But tell me, Mr Black, what does _ Music _ mean to Wizarding Kind?”

James, The Wankiest Wanker to have ever Wanked, snickered silently in the seat next to Sirius.

“Music,” Sirius began, calling upon the dredges of bullshit he possessed in his soul, “Is but a passing fancy to Wizarding folk.”

Iron nodded. Sirius deduced he was on to something. He continued: “Like all arts, music is a form of decoration. Don’t you agree, James?”

Iron turned to James, “Yes, Mr Potter! Tell us your thoughts,”

Sirius winked at James.

“Yes,” began James, pulling shit out of his arse, “I agree. Like all arts, music serves as a form of reprieve to the senses.”

“How philosophical, Mr Potter!” Iron clapped, “Would you care to explain your thoughts to the class?”

James smiled, “Music,” he paused, seemingly for effect but truly because he had no idea what was coming out of his mouth, “Like all arts,” another pause, Sirius coughed to hide his laugh, “Allows the audience to forget themselves. The sensory pleasure it induces allows the audience to ignore their thoughts, and live, briefly, in the moment. Thus, music acts as a relaxant for the audience’s otherwise occupied mind.”

_ “Aha!” _exclaimed Iron. “But surely, if Music allows such a thing, it can’t be but a _‘passing fancy’ _as suggested by Mr Black?” 

Sirius and James glanced at each other. And then, James, the wanker, opened his mouth, “Well? Sirius?”

Sirius smiled at James: _ Fuck you, arsehole. _

James smiled back: _ I love you too, darling. _

Sirius took a deep breath, “Music,” Iron looked at him expectantly, “Is under-appreciated by Wizarding Folk.” Iron grinned. And this was why Sirius put enough effort to bullshit in her class. He liked her sometimes.

“Explain your thinking, Mr Black.”

Sirius liked her _ sometimes. _Only sometimes.

“Music can simultaneously offer a reprieve for the senses and be but a passing fancy because it is—in our context—man-made, and like all man-made things, the way it is defined relies strongly on the way that general society views it.” Sirius tucked a strand of hair behind his ears, “Wizarding society does not place high value on music, and as thus it is seen as a passing fancy. Indisputably however, music, like all art, is, as James described, a form of escape.” Iron smiled at Sirius, “Music, therefore, simultaneously possesses intrinsic value and low societal esteem. Ergo, it is under-appreciated.”

“Excellent, Mr Black! Excellent, Mr Potter! Twenty points to Gryffindor for each of you!”

Sirius shrugged as if to suggest that what he had just said hadn’t taken every drop of brain power he possessed. Obviously, everyone bought it, because Sirius was Brilliant.

“Now, can anyone—who’s not either Mr Potter or Mr Black—explain _ why _ Music might be under-appreciated by British Mages?” Iron continued.

There was silence. The answer, it seemed to the class of third years, was straight forward. British Wizards didn’t like music because they just didn’t. It was a matter of simple preference.

A flicker of a smile ghosted over Iron’s lips. “We’ll come back to this question at the end of class.” She flicked her wand a few times and murmured a spell that had her Witches robes melting into Muggle-wear. Professor Ferriastrus Iron liked to teach her Muggle Studies class in Muggle-wear. Today she was wearing—Sirius’s favourite—_jeans. _

“Muggle Music is far more developed than Wizard Music,” began Iron, “There exists a plethora of different Muggle Music styles, as compared to the rather limited selection the British Wizarding system seems to have.” 

This was the first time Sirius had heard Wizarding life referred to as limited in comparison to Muggle life. He thought of his mother’s face and smiled.

“This difference can be attributed to the fact that Muggle society places a far greater value on music than Wizarding society does. This contrast is relevant especially more so in the UK, where the segregation between Muggles and Wizards is particularly strong. I trust you’ve all done your homework on the history of Muggle-Wizard interactions in the UK?”

A very specific type of person chose Muggle Studies as one of their third-year electives. An identifying factor of this type of person was their inability to finish homework, whether due to truancy or absentmindedness.

As Professor Iron trailed her eyes over the class, not one person (save for Sirius and James, who knew not the meaning of the word ‘shame’) was able to meet her eye.

“... I will take the homework in at the beginning of next lesson.” she sighed, “A lot of it should overlap with the Witch Hunts that you are covering in your History of Magic class with Professor Binns.”

James shot Sirius a look: _ What is she on about? _

Sirius shrugged his shoulders: _ I’ve given up trying to understand. _

“In summary, the turbulent relationship between Magic and Muggles, which may be attribut….”

Sirius wondered if Walby had realised he’d taken Muggle Studies as an elective. Her own lack of interest in Sirius had been her downfall in this matter. Sirius remembered handing her the parchment on which he’d chosen his electives for the year: Care of Magical Creatures (which had been a unanimous decision amongst Sirius, James, Peter and Remus), Divination (which Remus, The Betraying Betrayer had refused to take) and then, Muggle Studies (which Sirius had wanted to take, and therefore both Sirius and James took as their third and additional elective).

She had signed the parchment so carelessly that Sirius doubted she knew. It was without doubt, however, that when she found out, she would care. Some version of Sirius was almost excited to induce this reaction in her. The only time she ever cared about him—or more specifically, cared enough about the Black family name to pay attention to him besmirching it—was when she was shouting at him. It almost felt, sometimes, like she was worried about Sirius. But then the moment would pass, and everything in the world would go back to the way it was, the way it always had been. The world, which Sirius had felt a part of, for less than even a moment, would detach itself from him, and detach itself so thoroughly that Sirius was left feeling even lonelier than before.

And she wasn’t worried about him. She was never worried about him. She didn’t love him. Sirius knew this, like he knew the sun would rise after the night had melted away.

He wondered then, why he wished she would. Love him, he meant. No, not even love, just simple care was enough. Or if not care, Sirius would take attention. He would take her attention and hold it as if he deserved to. He did deserve to, didn’t he? 

Or maybe he didn’t. It would explain why his own parents had seemingly abandoned him.

But surely he did? Surely he deserved attention? He got it, unsolicited, from other people all the time.

It was only the people that mattered who didn’t seem to care anything about Sirius. Who didn’t seem to care if Sirius suddenly grew wings and flew to a land farther than anything anyone has ever known. A land where the people who were meant to care did, and the hearts of young boys were always care-free, as the hearts of young boys should always be. As Sirius wished his own heart was.

Lost in thought, Sirius almost didn’t register the crumpled piece of paper which hit him on the side of his face. 

“It’s from Sophia,” whispered James.

_ Who’s Sophia? _Sirius thought. James rolled his eyes and pointed discreetly at a pretty Hufflepuff sitting a few seats away. Sirius raised an eyebrow at her and grinned. She blushed in response and looked away.

_ See? _thought Sirius, _ I deserve attention. It’s just unconditional love that seems to be the problem. _

Sirius stared at the crumpled note in his hand for a while. 

“Open it, you twat.” James whispered. “Don’t leave her hanging.”

Sirius squinted his eyes at James and then moved closer to him.

_ James?, _Sirius wrote, on the corner of his textbook.

James squinted at the paper for a while. James Potter was secretly, not-so-secretly-at-all, going blind. After a while, James looked back at Sirius: _ Yeah? _

_ Do you love me? _Sirius wrote, in larger clearer letters.

James shot Sirius an incredulous look, and taking his quill, wrote back, in capitals: _ YES, YOU KNOB. _

Sirius glanced up at Iron, she was explaining something about the different Muggle Musical Genres.

_ Do you love me uncondit _ Sirius began to write, before James snatched the quill out of his hand and underlined and circled the _ ‘YES, YOU KNOB,’ _he’d written a few moments ago.

And Sirius smiled. Because if James—one of the best people in the world—loved him, then it was enough. For now, at least, it was enough. And Sirius’s heart felt at peace, just a little.

Sirius opened the note he’d gotten. It said:

_ To: Sirius Black. _

_ Your hair is pretty. _

_ Love, Sophia. _

Sirius glanced up at Sophia, only to see her eyeing him anxiously. He smirked and waved back at her. She flushed.

“What does it say?” James whispered, ever the nosy wanker.

“She likes my hair,” Sirius replied, out of the corner of his mouth.

James sighed, “Such a shame,”

Sirius looked at him with a puzzled expression.

“That she’s blind, of course.” James concluded.

Sirius looked at James: _ You think you’re funny. _

James winked back: _ Of course. _

_ “Music!” _exclaimed Iron. 

Both Sirius and James rolled their eyes.

* * *

“What did you get for number six?” Bertram asked.

Remus frowned first at his ancient runes worksheet and then at the separate decoding key they’d gotten. “I’m getting…three, um, large… phalluses?”

From his other side, Lily snorted, “A bit excessive.”

“Or not excessive enough.” Sev added.

“Thank you Sev, for that image.” Remus replied.

Bertram cleared his throat, Remus noticed he’d gone a bit pink, “I, uh, I got three large pineapples.”

“That would make more sense,” Remus sighed.

“And why is that, Mr Lupin?” Lily asked, batting her eyelashes.

“Because, Ms Evans, this is meant to be an ingredients list.” Remus answered, and then after a while, added, “Although I suppose I can’t fault anyone their personal tastes.”

Sev wrinkled his nose, “Oh god, that _ is _ a bit excessive.”

““Or not excessive enough,”” Remus and Lily said, simultaneously.

“Imagine.” Sev whispered, horrified.

“Merlin.” Bertram said, fanning his face.

Lily leant back on her seat, “How would you even eat that?”

“Usually,” Remus answered. “You would swallow.”

Lily frowned, “What do you mea— _ Remus.” _

Remus waggled his eyebrows.

“Three at the same time, though?” Sev said, in awe, “You’d choke.”

“How would that even _ work.” _Lily asked.

_How would that even work? _Remus wondered.

Bertram cleared his throat again.

“Tell us, Aubrey, how that would work.” Lily commanded.

“I— uh, I d— don’t—”

“She’s just kidding, Bertram, don’t worry,” Remus said.

Bertram smiled gratefully at Remus, still a bit pink in the face.

Lily gasped. “Three large phalluses,” and pointed at the three owners of phalluses which surrounded her.

Unfortunately, this meant that Lily pointed at Sev, Remus and Bertram. Honestly, Remus should have expected it. The series of unfortunate events that was his life, and all.

“Although I suppose I don’t know for certain if the phalluses are large, per se.” Lily added.

Sev scoffed.

Remus rolled his eyes, “Thanks Lils.”

“The only phallus I’ve seen is Sev’s when we were little.” Lily continued, “I’ve got no point of reference.”

“My phallus,” began Sev, “Is gargantuan.

“So it’s average?” Lily asked.

“You shut up.” Sev answered, as a way of confirmation.

Remus laughed, “If it makes you feel better, my phallus is pretty average as well.”

“My phallus is gargantuan, I’ve no idea what you’re on about.” Sev said, crossing his arms.

“Aubrey.” Lily said, her eyes glinting the way Marlene’s did so very often, “What about _ your _phallus?”

Bertram flushed. “I—uh, my, um—I d— don’t—” He glanced at Remus and flushed harder.

Sev smiled—which was never a good indication of what was going to come out of his mouth—“Remus regularly undermines himself.” he said, simply.

Bertram’s eyes snapped to Remus’s crotch. Then, seemingly horrified with himself, they immediately snapped back to Remus’s face. Then, realising—to his abject horror—that Remus had noticed where his eyes had just been, they snapped back to his own desk. Impossibly, his face got even redder than before. “I—uh—_Merlin.” _

And Remus, who usually was impervious to situations such as these, felt himself blushing in mortification. “Sev is too kind.” Remus grit out, meaning, by translation: _ Sev should shut his face forever, let us never speak of this incident for as long as we all shall live, amen. _

Lily caught his hidden meaning and smirked. It was a thing of mild terror. “So, Bertram. Your phallus?”

Bertram glanced at Remus again. His embarrassment was contagious. Remus felt blood rush away from his brain and towards the skin of his cheeks. Before his brain could begin to shut down, he blurted, “Lily’s asking you because she can’t ask the person she actually wants to ask.”

Lily shut her mouth rapidly and glared at Remus. Her eyes promised imminent death. Remus—who, in the company he so often kept, had begun to forget the meaning of the word ‘fear’—just grinned at her.

Sev, who’d begun to find the rune decoding they were doing rather tedious, smiled evilly. “Lily’s distasteful thoughts belong in the Potty.”

“That… was so bad it was good.” Remus whispered to Bertram, forgetting for a moment the awkward situation he’d just been in.

Lily turned to glare at Sev. “If I wanted to know how big his phallus was, I’d ask the string of girls he plays around with.” Lily glowered into the distance. “And anyway, size doesn’t matter.”

“Awww,” said Remus, “He’d blush if he heard that.”

Lily scoffed.

Remus still didn’t quite understand why James was trying so hard to avoid Lily this year. Probably, it had something to do with his pride. It seemed unlikely to Remus that James would simply get tired of her. Despite what Lily thought, James wasn’t that sort of guy. Maybe it was a new ‘hard-to-get’ scheme of his. Though that was unlikely as well. James was too sure of himself and his advances to play hard-to-get. Remus bit the inside of his cheek. Maybe James had just gotten over his crush? Maybe his crush on Lily was more superficial than it seemed. Or maybe, he’d just gotten sick of the constant rejection. Maybe he thought he really _ didn’t _stand a chance. Maybe James Potter, who seemed invincible in his confidence, had been worn down.

Remus sighed. “You’re an idiot, Lily, but I still love you.”

“And you’re the most oblivious person I’ve ever met,” Lily countered, “But I still love you too.”

Remus frowned. “Wait, what?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” Lily sighed, stroking Remus’s hair.

“What?” Remus repeated, questioning Sev with his gaze.

“Shhh…” Sev said, stroking the back of Remus’s hand.

Remus sighed, looked skywards, and then said to Bertram: “I chose this to be my life.”

“He loves us.” Lily murmured.

Bertram laughed weakly. 

* * *

_ Muggles are amazing, _Sirius thought as he stared at the box at the front of the classroom.

It was a Muggle wireless. Shaped differently to the typical sphere of Wizard ones. Metal and wood, where there was usually glass. And a string of strange, infinitesimal particles where there was usually Magic.

_ “Electrons.” _whispered Sirius, in reverence. _ Electrons. _

“The flow of electrons is called a current.” explained Iron, “It creates a type of energy called _ electricity _ which powers Muggle inventions.” 

_ Elecktricity. _Sirius’s eyes shone.

Muggles were amazing.

And their music… Sirius had never heard anything like it before. Jazz, Rock, The Blues, Hip Hop. 

“This might sound more familiar,” Iron said, as she changed the channel on the wireless.

Soft piano filled the classroom. _ Prélude in E Minor, _ thought Sirius, _ opus twenty-eight, number four. _ He could play it on the piano.

“Chopin!” a Ravenclaw called out.

Iron smiled, “How many of you know this piece?”

Roughly half the people in the classroom raised their hands.

“How about this one?” Iron asked, changing the channel.

_ Piano Sonata number two in F major, movement one, _Sirius thought as he raised his hand again.

“Mozart.” someone said.

Nearly all the hands in the classroom were raised.

“During the older musical eras, namely the Baroque and Classical periods, there was greater integration between Magical and Muggle society.” continued Iron, “It was easier for Wizards to live amongst Muggles, and as such, they did. Although this did often result in negative altercations between groups—namely, The Witch Hunts—both societies appeared to reap the benefits of this communication. Back then,” Iron explained, “Muggles—disregarding particular groups in Europe—feared magic less. They often attributed Magical Acts to what they called ‘miracles’. Indeed, some Muggle societies lived in tandem with Magic. It was a simpler time, and both parties feared the other less than they do today. We see the positive consequences of that time to this day. Much of the instrumental music we listen to was composed by Muggles.”

Sirius realised, with unbridled joy, that Walby unintentionally played Muggle music during her tepid Black family get-togethers. 

“Sirius, mate, stop smiling like that.” James whispered. “You look fucking creepy.”

“There is speculation that Mozart was a changeling, due to his early musical prowess.” Iron said, “Many Muggle artists can be traced back to a Magical source, and in this way Magical society has benefited Muggle society as well.”

Iron case a wordless _ Tempus. _There were fifteen minutes left of class.

“Now that we’ve gone over all the theory that we need to for today, let’s go back to the question I asked at the beginning of the lesson,” Iron announced, trailing her eyes over her class, “Why is Music under-appreciated by British Mages but not so by British Muggles?”

There was silence.

Iron sighed. “Whoever answers correctly can have the Muggle Wireless.”

Ten hands shot up in the air.

“Mr Cesario?” Iron called.

“Is it because of the progressive segregation through the ages?”

“Explain yourself, Mr Cesario.”

“As Wizarding society dissociated from Muggle society, we simultaneously dissociated from music, as well?”

“Not a bad idea, Mr Cesario. Unfortunately, it’s wrong. Our dissociation from Muggle society has little to do with our societal disinterest in Music. One doesn’t need Muggles to have a desire to produce or listen to music. Indeed, one needs only the intrinsic desire in the first place.”

Half the hands which were up dropped down.

“Yes, Croaga? Is it Mr or Ms today?”

“Neither, actually. I’m feeling like something in the middle,” Alex Croaga said. 

“Well then—Mx Croaga?” Iron asked, not missing a beat.

“Does it have anything to do with an Anti-Muggle sentiment?”

Iron shook her head, “Nothing of that sort.”

Now the only hand up in the air was Sirius’s.

“Yes, Mr Black?”

“Is it because…” Sirius paused, trying to voice his thoughts, “Muggles don’t have Magic, and because Music, and for that matter all types of Art, gives them an illusion of… fantasy, I guess—as a society they are more interested in pursuing The Arts, than, say, Wizarding Society, where we can use Magic to make our dreams reality, and therefore don’t have any… uh, I mean to say, it isn’t as attractive to us to live vicariously through The Arts?”

Iron smiled, “That was brilliant, Mr Black.” (Sirius did not blush. Sirius knew he was brilliant. He had absolutely no need for external validation.)

“Why are you blushing,” James laughed.

Sirius elbowed James in the side, James’s laughter turned into wheezing and all was good in the universe, once again.

“Thirty points to Gryffindor, Mr Black. You may take the wireless with you after class.”

Sirius smiled, and said, in a confident, self-assured way, “Thank you.” He was not pleasantly embarrassed. He was not _ shy. _ Sirius Black did not get _ shy. _The audacity.

Sirius elbowed James in the side once again.

* * *

“Is that a Muggle wireless?” Remus asked.

“Mmmm…” Sirius hummed in confirmation, his ear to the speaker as he fiddled with the dials.

Remus looked down at the contraption, perplexed. “How is it functioning? Doesn’t Magic disrupt the electricity?”

“Mmmm…” Sirius hummed, because he wasn’t listening to Remus.

“Sirius.” Remus called, elbowing him in the side.

“Shush, Remus, I’m doing something important.” Sirius muttered.

“Do you realise the irony in this situation.” Remus asked. Sirius didn’t answer. Remus looked over his dinner plate to James. “Do _ you _realise the irony in this situation.” James didn’t answer either—he was busy making goo-goo eyes at Sakura on the Ravenclaw Table. Which meant that Lily was busy glaring at her plate and stabbing her food, and Marlene was busy laughing. “Peter?” Remus called.

“Hmmm?” Peter hummed, not taking his eyes off something in the distance.

Remus followed his line of sight. He was looking at a group of girls on the Hufflepuff table. Remus suspected he was looking at Mary MacDonald. They’d been partnered together in Herbology, and Peter had spent the next hour staring into the distance and smiling randomly.

“... Does no one see the irony in this situation?” Remus said into the open air, but mostly to himself. “Because this situation is very ironic. Extremely ironic. So much irony is happening right now.”

Everyone continued to do what they were doing. Remus looked at Sirius. 

“So much irony. Seriously.” Remus said. “Pun absolutely intended.” 

“That was horrible, my ears are melting.” Sirius said, meeting Remus’s eyes with his own and making a face.

“Oh, sorry, were you talking to me?” Remus asked, widening his eyes and faking shock.

The hint of a smile played over Sirius’s lips, his eyes shone silver. “No, actually, I was just vocalising my thoughts.” He reached out and squished Remus’s face with one hand, the smile at his lips finally materialising. “Go enjoy the peace you’ve very kindly been granted.”

_ Oh, right, _ Remus realised. He grinned. Sirius looked at him a while longer, and squished his face momentarily harder before finally letting go. And promptly going back to his Muggle Wireless. Because it was _ sooooo _interesting, or whatever.

Remus took a sip of pumpkin juice and gently acquiesced that Muggle music had an indubitable attraction. James continued to make goo-goo eyes at Sakura. Pete continued to look forlornly at Mary. Lily grit her teeth and in an unprecedented move, smiled brightly at Olliver. Who promptly squeaked. This in turn led to Marlene smirking.

Feeling deeply uncomfortable, like he was watching the dissolution of his parents’ marriage or something, Remus kicked James lightly in the shin and nodded towards Lily. James broke his goo-goo gaze and raised an eyebrow at Remus. A short, wordless conversation ensued, after which James made a face and finally looked over at Lily. Who was now, to Remus’s horror, batting her eyelashes at Olliver. Remus grimaced and glanced back at James. He looked impassive, which meant that he was anything but.

“James?” Remus asked, wary.

James looked over to him with a look that said _ Later. _

“Welcome back, James.” Marlene called. “How was dinner with the Ravenclaws?”

James smiled, his pureblood heritage making it almost impeccable and his inherent sincerity making it _ almost _ instead of _ completely. _“Sakura’s lovely, as always.”

Lily snapped her eyes towards James, her nostrils flaring imperceptibly. “Too lovely for you, certainly.” she said, an edge of anger lacing her words.

James shrugged and smiled a small smile. “She’s the best.” 

Remus felt a surge of protective love for James, he pinched Lily’s side under the table and gave her a look of reproach. Lily, unfortunately, didn’t care.

“Yes.” Lily said, sharply. “She is. I wonder why she agreed to date you.”

“Well.” Remus said, unable to hold his tongue when James had that look on his face, “James has loads of good qualities.” James shot Remus a grateful smile. Remus winked back and grinned. “He’s smart, when he tries, for one.”

“And funny.” James chimed in, his smile growing wider.

“Yeah, he’s funny sometimes.” Remus agreed, shooting Lily a conspiratorial look and trying to involve her in the conversation.

“All the time.” James said, “He’s funny all the time.”

“And he can play quidditch.” Remus continued, smiling.

“And he’s handsome.” James nodded.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Remus said.

“And he regularly participates in social service.” James said, running a hand through his hair.

Remus raised an eyebrow up at him.

“Well, I hang out with you don’t I?” James grinned.

“As you can see,” Remus continued, “James isn’t funny at all, but he gets a gold star for effort.” 

James laughed, “Okay, okay. James also has the most amazing friends in the world, and that must mean he’s doing _ something _right.”

Remus nodded approvingly, and exchanged a high-five with James. He looked towards Lily and smiled. She huffed and after a moment of what seemed like internal struggle, offered a smile of her own.

“Well.” Lily said, haltingly, “Good for you, Potter.”

James smiled back, but—and Remus hoped he was imagining it—it was a touch stony. “Thank you, Evans.

“Your hair,” Lily continued, because she didn’t want him to go back to his goo-goo gaze, “looks dreadful, as always. I commend Sakura.”

James tousled his hair and smirked. “I appreciate the sentiment, but there’s no need. She thinks it’s sexy.”

“It must be awful to be blind.” Lily replied.

“The quality of being blind is indeed not the best. As people who were blessed with vision, Sakura and I both celebrate our luck.”

Lily scoffed. “Do you selectively interpret _ everything—” _

“Is it as painful to watch as it is to hear?” Sirius whispered, from his bent over position.

“Worse.” Remus whispered back. “A thousand times worse.”

“Wow. My condolences.” Sirius said, as he went back to his dials.

Remus looked back at Lily and James and, very carefully, extricated himself from what was rapidly becoming a conversation that would no doubt suck the soul out of his body. Once free, he drank some pumpkin juice and perused The Great Hall.

Looking towards the Slytherin table, Remus noticed Sev talking to his friends. Reg was sitting next to him, facing the other way and talking to a separate group of second-years. _ Oh—_Reg accidentally spilled his goblet on Sev’s trousers. _ Ah… _ and now Reg was scrubbing at the spot… and Sev was turning red… and… wow, Reg must have spilt _ a loooot _ of liquid to have to scrub for so long… wow… he could have just used a _ scourgify… _and Sev was now the colour of a cherry. And was that a smirk? Yes, affirmative. Reg was smirking. Nice.

Sometimes, Remus was really very glad that he went to a school filled with exhausting people. Granted, of course, that those exhausting people conducted their exhausting behaviour at an appropriate distance away from him.

Remus sipped some more pumpkin juice and trailed his eyes over The Great Hall. The sky looked lovely today. It was a new moon, so there were only the stars to behold, and Remus felt the most human he ever really felt.

“There’s Sirius,” Remus murmured, looking up at the brightest star in the sky.

“Shining in all my glory, as always.” Sirius muttered back.

Remus smiled, “I thought you were doing something important.”

“I am. Shush.”

“I shall not be silenced.” Remus announced, all of a sudden finding great amusement in irritating Sirius.

“Oh my god, _ stop distracting me.” _

“Gee, I wonder how it feels to be disturbed when you want to be left alone.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Sirius replied, glancing at Remus, a corner of his mouth turning up.

“Yes, of course. I have absolutely no semblance of what it must feel like to wish for brief solitude and not have it granted based on the nonsensical wishes of those around you.”

“Remus?”

“Yes?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Sirius said, smiling crookedly, his eyes crinkling.

“The_ irony.” _ Remus lamented, grasping his chest. “It physically _ hurts me.” _

“Oh, fuck off.”

Remus laughed softly and stuffed some bread in his mouth.

Roughly five minutes later he felt someone looking at him. He ignored it, because he had better things to do, and by better things to do, he meant enjoy the rare moment of peace he had suddenly found himself in.

Ten minutes after that, and the staring had begun to feel a little stalkerish. Remus felt compelled to look up and across the hall… at the Ravenclaw table… and into the sky-blue eyes of none other than Bertram Aubrey himself. Bertram flushed and looked away. Remus, startled, watched as Bertram’s friends began to laugh at him. 

And then, even more startled, Remus watched as Bertram began to choke, lightly, on the food that he must have been chewing on.

Remus’s eyes widened as Bertram coughed into his fist and his friends began thumping him ruthlessly on the back. _ Should I go over and help? _Without quite realising what he was doing, Remus began to gather himself.

And then, Bertram—completely red faced, and surrounded by a small crowd of Ravenclaws—stopped choking and looked up at Remus. _ Is he okay? _Remus frowned. Realising, presumably, that Remus had seen everything that had just happened and was now potentially on his way over, Bertram covered his face with his right hand and gave Remus a big thumbs up with his left one.

Remus’s eyebrows shot up. He snorted and gave Bertram two big thumbs-up of his own. The Ravenclaws around Bertram began cheering and thumped him on the back.

“Did you just long-distance flirt with Aubrey?” Marlene asked.

“I—” Remus blushed, “Did I?”

“Uh, ya?”

_ “Bertram.” _Sirius hissed, abruptly disregarding his new toy and glaring at poor Bertram. Sirius’s vendetta was a deeply strange one that he refused to explain to anyone.

“Look at him blush,” Marlene laughed, looking over at Bertram. “He’s so cute.”

Remus looked at Bertram, blushing still, and facing away from where Remus was sitting. Every so often, he would glance quickly at Remus without moving his head. He must have thought that he was being subtle, and that from the distance between them, Remus wouldn’t be able to tell. It wasn’t a misguided belief, and would have probably been spot on, if, of course, Remus had been human. Remus, the werewolf, noticed everything in mild amusement.

“He is.” Remus agreed, smiling slightly, and thinking back to Ancient Runes, earlier today.

“What.” Sirius said, sounding—as he sometimes did—awfully idiotic.

“What, what?” Remus asked.

“Bertram isn’t _ cute.” _

“One: Beauty is subjective. Two:” Remus said, and then, feeling himself blush, continued, in an embarrassingly soft voice, “I think Bertram’s cute.”

“Good on you, Remus.” Marlene laughed, moving around Lily to sit next to Remus.

Remus smiled at her and glanced back at Bertram. Who was glancing, currently, back at him. Remus resisted the urge to wave.

“You can’t think Bertram’s cute.” Sirius said, his voice hard.

Remus looked over at Sirius incredulously. “Uh, yes, actually, I can?”

“No. You can’t.”

Remus stared at Sirius. “Why are you so strange.”

Sirius spluttered indignantly. Marlene coughed to hide a laugh.

“I am not strange!” Sirius exclaimed. “Anyways. Bertram doesn’t even like you.”

Remus shrugged, a little stung, “Even if he doesn’t, I can still like him.”

Sirius looked at him in silence. And then he asked, in a strange voice, “Do you fancy Bertram?”

“No,” Remus admitted. “But I could.”

“Sorry to interrupt this fascinating exchange,” interrupted Marlene, looking utterly unrepentant, “But we’ve got a bet going on, and currently only one person’s bet on Bertram _ not _having a crush on Remus. Safe to say, everyone thinks that Bertram likes Remus.”

Remus began to blush. And then, he processed what Marlene had just said. “Wait. You guys gamble over my love life?”

“Bertram.” said Sirius, staring so intensely at Remus that it almost felt like he would start shooting silver beams from his eyes, “Is so weird. You can’t fancy him.”

Remus looked at Sirius, irked, _ “You _are so weird, Sirius. Don’t tell me what to do. And don’t involve me in your strange vendetta.”

“I’m not weird.” Sirius said, sounding so hurt that Remus instantly felt terrible.

“You _ are _ weird.” Remus said, gently, “But that’s okay.”

Sirius sniffed and looked downwards, looking every bit a kicked puppy. And making Remus feel a thousand times worse.

“Weird people are interesting,” Remus said, even more gently, tucking a silky strand of ebony hair behind Sirius’s ear, “I like your weirdness.”

Sirius looked up at him, “Do you?”

“Yeah,” Remus smiled, “I do.”

Sirius sniffed again, and after a while, said: “Do you know the rolling pebbles?”

“The rolling pebbles?”

“They’re a Muggle music group.”

“The Rolling Stones?”

“Yeah, them.”

Remus tucked another strand of hair behind Sirius's ear. “Yeah, I do.”

“Do you want to listen to them with me when we get upstairs?”

“Yeah,” said Remus, retracting his hand from Sirius’s hair and still feeling the ghost sensation on his fingertips, “Yeah, I do. Are you done eating?”

Sirius nodded, strands of his hair coming loose again.

“Okay,” Remus said, resisting the urge to tuck Sirius’s hair back again, “Let’s go home and listen to some rolling pebbles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the songs which featured in this chapter:
> 
> Prelude in E minor Op 28, no 4 by Frederic Chopin: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ef-4Bv5Ng0w
> 
> Piano Sonata No 2 F Major (Movement 1) by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J9866zX07iw
> 
> If you weren't aware, Mx is a gender-neutral title (pronounced Mix) accepted by the British government.
> 
> I vaguely, vaguely know where the next chapter is going so hopefully (no promises, I'm horrible) it'll be up soon-ish, uergh I really don't know.


	15. The first fracture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I suggested that this chapter would be up soonish, but I have no sense of time anymore. I apologise.
> 
> On an alternate note: 100 kudos! I can't believe it — thank you all so much!

The little boy sat on the floor in front of the hearth, trying to warm his frozen hands. He felt so awfully cold. But today was not a day to be wasted on meaningless tasks such as keeping warm. No, not at all. Today—the boy knew—was a very important day. The most important day in the history of the boy’s life. Quite possibly, the most important day in the history of the world. The boy pondered over this thought as he warmed his hands a moment longer. He nodded to himself self-assuredly—a remarkable feat for something so very young, and so very small. 

_ Quite right, _ the boy thought, today was the most important day to have ever happened. He smiled and began muttering something about eggs, and how the white part had to be gooey but not _ too _gooey, and how the yellowey-orange part couldn’t be there at all. No, of course not. The very thought made the young boy shake his head in consternation. Today was too important a day for the yellowey-orange part of eggs. 

“Young Master shall catch his death sitting on the kitchen floor,” murmured the little boy’s favourite house elf.

“I’ll be _ fine, _ Vastey. I’m already six years old.” the boy returned, for he was very sure of himself and regularly ignored other people’s comments about him being _ too _sure of himself. It was very clear to the little boy that save for him, everyone in the world was daft as a bat. 

“Young Master is an ill-behaved little boy, and shall very soon see his mother’s wrath should he continue behaving as such,” said the little boy’s most hated house elf.

“Go chew on some glass, Kreacher.” the little boy snapped, irritated with the mention of his mother’s wrath and the reminder that if he was not careful, the most important day in the history of forever could be ruined. 

“Kreacher is not inclined to listen to Young Master’s commands,” Kreacher said, snottily, “Kreacher has wiped Young Master’s buttocks countless times.”

The little boy felt heat rising in his cheeks, “I can wipe my buttocks myself now!” he cried in anger, “Kreacher, I command you to go chew some glass!”

Kreacher scowled down at the little boy. The little boy was angered to find that he was still shorter than the ugly house elf who terrorised his life.

“Young Master is cruel. Kreacher fears for the future of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.”

The little boy took hold of one of Kreacher’s ears and pulled with all the strength he could find.

“Young Master is cruel _ and _ ungrateful—after Kreacher changed the Young Master’s sheets this morning—”

“Shut up, shut up!” the little boy cried. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

“—Young Master always tries to hide the evidence under his bed and that is why his room smells like urine in the mornings—”

“Kreacher!” screeched the little boy, as red as he had ever been, “Stop talking! I won’t make you eat glass!”

Kreacher contorted his ugly face into what the boy suspected was a smirk. The little boy, with no little regret, let go of his ear. 

The little boy and Kreacher were involved in a heated battle that one day, very soon, the little boy was sure he would win. And then Kreacher would leave his house and the little boy would be able to steal as many sweets from the pantry as he liked.

“I hate you, Kreacher.” the little boy sulked, “You’ve made today awful.”

Kreacher sneered down at the little boy in what was sure to be his own admission of hatred. Kreacher wasn’t allowed to say he hated the little boy.

“Is Young Master Sirius perchance feeling cold?” asked Vastey, kindly.

Sirius looked over at Vastey with large, soulful eyes. Sirius loved Vastey very much. “I’m _ freezing, _Vastey, save me,”

Vastey smiled at Sirius and waved her hands over him. Beginning at the core of his chest, and slowly spreading outwards, a warm, delicious sensation enveloped Sirius. Sirius squirmed on the spot, pleased that he longer felt like his fingers would snap off his hands.

“Should Vastey prepare some hot milk for the Young Master?” asked Vastey.

“No!” exclaimed Sirius, all of a sudden realising that he was really very busy and hadn’t the time to waste, “No Vastey. Today is an important day.”

Vastey laughed a croaky, wheezy laugh. It was Sirius’s favourite sound in all the world. “Yes, of course. Happy Birthday, Master Sirius.”

Sirius put his hands on his waist and preened. “I’m a big boy now.”

“Young Master is a highly delusional little baby.” Kreacher sneered.

Sirius glared with all the hatred in the universe, “Kreacher is frustrated and lonely that no-one will marry him because he’s so _ ugly.” _

Kreacher narrowed his large, bulbous eyes. “Young Master Sirius still wets his bed and cries when he sees a spider in his room.”

_ “Spiders,” _ screamed Sirius, _ “are creepy and UGLY! Just like YOU!” _

“Kreacher would be the finest elvin dandy in all of England if he weren’t too busy looking after the selfish and cruel Young Master Sirius.” Kreacher hissed.

“That’s what _ UGLY PEOPLE SAY!” _shrieked Sirius, feeling an impossible pressure building between his ears.

“Now, now,” soothed Vastey, catching the plates which had begun to float dangerously above Sirius’s head, “Vastey shall prepare for Young Master some hot milk.”

Sirius and Kreacher glared at each other. And then, Sirius realised that Kreacher fighting properly with a human child was an unbelievably pathetic thing to do. He instantly felt much better.

“There’s no need, Vastey.” called Sirius, still scowling at Kreacher. “There’s no time for hot milk.”

Vastey tilted her head at Sirius and blinked her large eyes.

“Today,” announced Sirius, “I am going to make breakfast for Mother and Father.”

Vastey gaped at Sirius, “Y— Young Master—”

“No.” Kreacher said.

Sirius stomped his foot on the floor, “Don’t tell me what to do!”

“No.” Kreacher repeated.

Sirius crossed his arms. “I am going to make breakfast for Mother and Father, and Vastey is going to help me, and Kreacher is going to leave and go chew some glass.”

Kreacher eyed Sirius for a while. Then, he said, “Young Master is intellectually deficient.”

Sirius flushed in anger, _ “You’re intelleddy deffy!” _

“Young Master is so intellectually deficient that he knows not the meaning of what Kreacher just said.”

_ “I command you to leave the kitchen,” _Sirius screamed.

Kreacher stood there in silence and did that awful facial contortion smirk thing that he liked to do. Sirius stomped his foot on the floor again. Like always, Kreacher had managed to find a loophole in the words Sirius had just used, but for the life of him, Sirius couldn’t imagine what it was. It was incredibly frustrating. 

“Young Master,” hushed Vastey, looking incredibly pale, “Young Master should not cook breakfast—”

“Stop it, Vastey.”

Vastey shut her mouth and looked at Sirius miserably.

“Young Master will not cook breakfast.” Kreacher said, in that odious tone of his, “It is a task beneath those who have the blood of The Noble and Most Ancient Hou—”

“I am your young master.” said Sirius, imitating the voice his mother used to talk to most everyone, “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Kreacher does not report back to Young Master Sirius.” Kreacher grit out. “Kreacher reports back only to the Mistress Walburga.”

“I don’t care,” said Sirius, “I am your young master and you will not go against my direct commands.” Sirius glared at Kreacher. “Do not tell Mother and Father what I am doing and do not try to stop me.”

Kreacher glowered back at Sirius but made no other move. Sirius counted that as a win.

“Now, Vastey, bring me the eggs.”

Vastey wrung her hands and stared at Sirius, “Young Master, if Vastey may ask a question before we begin,”

“Yeah?” Sirius said, mentally planning out the tray he would deliver to his parents.

Vastey began to shuffle her feet nervously, “Vastey was wondering what Young Master’s intentions were in making breakfast for the Master Orion and the Mistress Walburga…”

Sirius smiled at her, “I’m going to make them the best breakfast in the world,” Sirius took a small breath, “And then they’ll love me.”

Vastey stared at Sirius for a while, and then began, in a rough voice, “Young Master—”

“That is a foolish plan.” interrupted Kreacher, “It won’t work.”

Sirius flushed. “It _ will. _ It’s my birthday today. It has to work today.” Sirius thought back to the candles he’d blown out in his room when he’d first awoken. He repeated, “It _ has _ to work today. They won’t be mad at me. I’ll make them breakfast and they’ll realise that they love me.”

The resulting silence seemed to steal the air out of the kitchen. So Sirius filled it with his birthday wishes:

To win his parents’ affections. To be hugged, to be kissed, to be spoken to casually. To go somewhere together. To eat a meal together. To feel like a _ family—_like the family across the road. _ They _ certainly ate together, and went places together, and laughed together. But if not that, Sirius wished to be loved. He was sure his parents loved him… because they were his _ parents, _ they _ had _ to love him. That’s what happened in all the bedtime stories Vastey told him. Birth parents _ always _ loved their children. _ Always. _And Sirius’s parents were his birth parents. They all shared the same Ancient, Noble blood. So they did love him. Of course they did. It was just difficult to remember that sometimes. 

This breakfast gave them an opportunity to show Sirius that they loved him. Sirius was sure they’d been looking for this opportunity forever. This was just Sirius giving them a helping hand.

And in the unlikely event that they, perhaps, _ didn’t _ love him (hey, maybe they’d been cursed by an evil sorceress or something) this breakfast was sure to create those feelings of love within them. This breakfast, the best breakfast in the world, would break the strange spell on their hearts that made them ignore Sirius’s existence. And because today was Sirius’s birthday, and good things _ always _happened on one’s birthday (according to Vastey’s stories), a little red emotion would fill their hearts and they’d be filled to the brim with love for Sirius.

And today would go down in history as the most important day in Sirius’s life, and therefore the most important day in _ anyone’s _ life. Today would be the day that Sirius’s parents finally loved him. Finally. _ Finally. _

Sirius shook his head. He’d wasted enough time already. “Vastey. Give me four eggs.”

Vastey mumbled something too soft for Sirius’s ears and fetched him the eggs. “Perhaps Young Master should direct Vastey instead—”

“No.” said Sirius, because that wasn’t the _ point. _“I have to do it myself. Give me the eggs.”

Vastey’s hands shook as she handed the eggs over. Sirius took them impatiently. All he had to do now was crack them. Sirius smashed an egg down on the kitchen table. It broke completely. Perhaps that was too much force—Sirius smashed the next egg down more lightly. A crack formed on the shell. Sirius pushed into the crack with his thumbs and the egg smashed completely in his hands. _ Hmmmm…. _

“Young Master, perhaps Vastey should—” Vastey tried, again.

“No, Vastey.” Sirius gave Vastey an imploring look, “It has to be me.” 

“Young Master will be the death of us all.” Kreacher muttered, rubbing his hands together.

Vastey vanished the mess in Sirius’s hands and then rubbed them gently with a wet cloth for good measure. “If Young Master so wishes, Vastey can teach him the basics of breakfast cuisine…?”

Sirius paused for a second and then nodded. If he was to make the best breakfast in the world, he’d need Vastey’s help. Vastey was, after all, the best cook in the world. She had both literal _ and _metaphorical magic on the tips of her fingers.

With Vastey’s help, and Kreacher’s suspicious silence, Sirius began his breakfast making journey. It was taxing and strange, but Sirius bore with it. At one point he tried to add firewhisky to the egg mixture—for a little extra snazzle—but apparently that was _ ‘Unwise,’ _ according to Vastey, and _ ‘Terribly idiotic, Young Master is a blithering idiot,’ _according to Kreacher. 

Anyways, long story short, by half past eight, Sirius had made two egg-white omelettes, four pieces of toasted bread—two very lightly toasted, for Mother, and two an even golden brown, for Father—a jug of freshly squeezed pumpkin juice, a pot of darjeeling—strongly brewed, because that’s what Mother preferred—as well as a plate of cut plums—his Father’s favourite.

Sirius stared at the assortment of food on the kitchen counter. It seemed a bit drab for what was meant to be the best breakfast in the world. He looked over at Vastey with a frown. Vastey smiled back, the loose folds in her grey skin stretching.

“This is lovely, Young Master,” she murmured. 

Sirius scrunched his nose, “Really?” It seemed pretty normal to him. He knew he should have spiked the omelettes with alcohol. 

“Really.” Vastey reassured.

“What a very average breakfast assortment.” Kreacher commented.

Sirius’s eyes widened. If Kreacher said it was average, it must be extraordinary. Sirius looked at it again. Maybe it was one of those things that tasted better than it looked.

Sudden anxiety squeezed Sirius’s heart. What if his parents didn’t like it? Maybe the tea hadn’t brewed for long enough… Maybe there were clumps of pumpkin left in the juice… Maybe… Maybe a _ hair _had fallen into the food! Sirius stared intensely at the kitchen table.

“Young Master Sirius?” Vastey asked.

“Vastey.” said Sirius, nervous, “Do you think Mother and Father will like it?”

Vastey wrung her hands and looked downwards. “Vastey is unsure, Young Master. The Master and Mistress have extremely particular tastes—not to say, of course, that Young Master’s breakfast isn’t to par, but Vastey,” Vastey paused and glanced at Kreacher. Kreacher looked back at her coldly. “Vastey thinks they may be displeased that Young Master has cooked it himself.”

Sirius stared at her, his fingers growing cold. “But… Maria cooked breakfast for her parents and they were so happy they bought her a kneazle.”

“Maria, Young Master?” 

“The youngest Fawley daughter—we met at the last soirée, remember? The one who wore the red ribbons in her hair.”

Recognition shot across Vastey’s face, “Ah yes, Little Mistress Fawley. She was rather enamoured by the Young Master Sirius, wasn’t she?”

Sirius nodded. “She pretended to cry and then forced me to kiss her.”

Vastey laughed, “Yes, Vastey remembers. Little Mistress Fawley wore very pretty shoes.”

“The Fawley house is inferior to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.” Kreacher derided, ruining everything as he always did. “Their traditions are looser. Master and Mistress Fawley do not exercise the same level of decorum as the Mistress Walburga, and the Master Orion.” 

_ Decorum, _ thought Sirius, _ is a horrible thing. _If he had to choose between decorum and his parents’ love, he’d choose the latter any day. Some acquired sense of self-preservation prevented him from saying this out loud. No doubt Kreacher would snitch to his parents, and Sirius got chills thinking about how his parents would react if they heard he preferred their love to pure-blood etiquette.

Sirius knew, of course, that nothing was more important than tradition. That’s what he’d been told, day after day, after all. But sometimes… sometimes Sirius wondered whether his parents, perhaps, had their priorities confused. Tradition definitely wasn’t more important than Reg, or Vastey, or Uncle Alphard or Dromeda. Sirius had mixed feelings about Cissa, but he still thought she was more important than tradition. The only person less important than tradition was maybe Kreacher. Sirius found this funny because after his parents, Kreacher was the biggest traditionalist he knew.

Sirius certainly believed that his parents were more important than tradition. He wondered, though, whether this feeling was reciprocated… surely, it was… right? Surely his parents loved him just as much as he loved—or rather, just as much as he _ believed _ he could love them, if given the chance to know them. Because that’s just how family was meant to be, right? Family was meant to love each other. Blood—his mother’s favourite word—was certainly thicker than water. And blood meant… blood meant love, didn’t it? And so, Sirius loved his parents… because that’s what he knew he was meant to do. He was meant to love them because they were his parents, and everybody loved their parents, especially their birth parents. Just like this, Sirius knew that his parents loved him also. That’s what they were _ meant _to do. They had to.

They had to… but Sirius wasn’t sure if they did. Sirius didn’t know his parents, not really. All of what he knew about them, he had learnt through observation, looking not for personal details per se, but rather for a moment when decorum would slip, and they’d display their love for him. It hadn’t happened… yet. It hadn’t happened _yet. _But it would happen some day, one day—_today. _It would happen today because Sirius had made the best breakfast in the world—even though it looked kind of drab—and he had made it with his own hands and love and whatnot. And today was Sirius’s sixth birthday. They wouldn’t get _mad _at him today… they weren’t allowed to. It was his _birthday. _

Sirius was certain that being mean to people on their birthday went against the rules of everything. Not that he had any particular love for the rules, of course. The only rules which were worthwhile were the ones that could be broken. But… this… it just—no—they, they—they _ couldn’t _ be mean to him today—they _ couldn’t _ ignore him, or shout at him, or—or, slap him, or hit him, or hex him, or punish Vastey in front of him. It was—it was his _ birthday. _It was their son’s birthday. And he had made them breakfast—all the while holding his heart in his mouth—and he had set it on a tray, and he had opened his chest and displayed his heart without shields, without armour, without anything—just his heart, by itself and vulnerable, just for them. So that they could see that Sirius would give them everything, if only they asked. If only they—if only his parents loved him, that’s all.

Sirius felt his eyes begin to burn, he felt his body overcome, helplessly, by emotion. He’d always been terrible at hiding it.

“Oh, Young Master,” Vastey consoled gently, moving towards Sirius and patting his head. 

“They love me, Vastey.” Sirius cried, believing that if he said it enough, it’d come true, “They love me, and it’s my birthday, and I made breakfast, and they’ll,” Sirius took a shuddering breath, “They’ll love me for real when they eat it.”

Vastey looked at Sirius sadly as she stroked his head, “It is Vastey’s fault for reading Young Master all those stories. Vastey asks for his forgiveness.” 

“Why would I need to forgive you, Vastey?” Sirius asked, his sobs turning into softer gasps, his control returning. 

“Real life isn’t,” Vastey hesitated, “it isn’t like the stories, Young Master.”

“What?”

Kreacher spoke up then, in his cruel tone, “There are no happy endings, there is no true love, there are no _ miracles. _There is only reality. Young Master Sirius had best understand this before his foolishness ruins The House of Black.”

Sirius had never hated Kreacher more in his entire life. How dare he ruin the only pure thing in Sirius’s life. How dare he ruin Sirius’s hopes, his dreams. 

“I hate you, Kreacher.” Sirius said, in all sincerity.

“Kreacher speaks only the truth,” Kreacher continued, nonplussed, “The Young Master has lived too long in his dream-world. There is no space for such a vulgar emotion as love in this world. It ruins everything. It causes destruction and ache, and worst of all, it causes the break-down of tradition. People forget themselves in it, they destroy themselves. They forget that the only thing worth living for is custom. They confuse the purpose of their lives. There is no space for love in this world, Young Master Sirius Black. And there is certainly no space for love in this household.”

Sirius felt his hands tremble, “Why?”

“Why?” Kreacher snorted derisively, “Why, he asks. Because, Young Master, love is superficial and fickle. It is worth nothing. It lasts for less than a breath. The only thing that transcends age is tradition. It is against pure-blood tradition to behave foolishly or erratically. It is therefore given that one is forbidden, also, to love.” 

“Mother and Father love me,” Sirius said, his throat burning, his voice shaking.

“Love?” Kreacher laughed humourlessly, “They do not love. They did not love their own parents, they do not love each other, and they certainly don’t love the Young Master.” 

“They do!” Sirius wailed in desperation. “They do! Shut up, _ Shut up!” _

“Kreacher will not shut up.” Kreacher hissed, “Young Master will stop this breakfast nonsense before—”

_ “Shut up!” _ Sirius screamed, moving away from him, _ “I made them breakfast and I will give it to them. Don’t you _ ** _dare_ ** _ stop me.” _

“No!” Kreacher bellowed, “Young Master—” he made his way towards Sirius but was intercepted by cutlery suddenly raining down on him. Knives, forks, spoons, everything found its way towards Kreacher, stopping him from progressing, overcoming him for the crucial moment that Sirius needed to grab the breakfast tray.

Vastey intercepted his hand, “Young Master, please, please reconsider—”

_ “Let go of my hand, Vastey! Do not stop me!” _Sirius shouted, his whole body shaking with emotion.

She recoiled, as if burnt by Sirius’s skin. Sirius felt guilt clench his stomach. He didn’t quite understand what was happening, he just felt so very upset and—and desolate. What horrible things Kreacher had been saying. What absolutely horrible things had come out of his mouth. They had hurt Sirius deeply when he was already vulnerable. But Sirius wouldn’t let this stop him. He—he _ wouldn’t. _ Kreacher didn’t know anything! Kreacher didn’t know his parents! Sirius knew his parents, they were _ his, _just like he was theirs, and they shared the same blood, and blood—blood is thicker than water, it’s thicker than water, a thousand—no a million times thicker. Sirius felt sick. He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.

He walked, shaking, towards the dining room. He was overcome, once again, by nerves. He felt so very sick. His parents didn’t love? Everyone loved. It was human to love. It was the only thing that made Sirius’s life worth it. What was the point of anything if Sirius couldn’t love? If no-one could ever love him? For the first time in his life, Sirius realised that pure-blood tradition wasn’t for him. He couldn’t live the life that Kreacher had described. So full of decorum, and propriety and _ tradition _ but nothing else. Full of nothing that truly mattered to Sirius.

Sirius realised, slowly, that if _ he _ thought like this, perhaps—no, certainly—_certainly, _ his parents thought something similar also. They were all the same, after all. They were made from the same stuff, the same blood, the same magic. If he felt suffocated, surely they did too. Surely they were looking for a way out of the trap that tradition had become. If he could only show them that he loved them, despite what their tradition dictated, they would realise that tradition need not dictate all. They would realise that they too—_they too _ loved him. They were his parents, and he was their child, and he had made them breakfast and today was his birthday and if that wasn’t enough, Sirius thought his heart would break.

So he willed his emotions dry, he called for the heavy door to open, and he walked inside the dining room with his breakfast tray. The best breakfast in the world. The most important day in the history of forever. The most desperate little boy. And, his parents.

They sat on opposite ends of the long table, as far as they could possibly get from the other. Mother was admiring her new mirror. Father was reading the newspaper. They weren’t talking, they weren’t looking at each other. _ ‘They do not love each other,’ _Kreacher had said. 

Sirius walked slowly towards the table and placed the breakfast tray down. Neither of his parents looked up. Sirius exhaled quietly. He tapped the breakfast tray a few times to excite it’s magic. In a few moments, his Mother and Father’s plates were arranging themselves. Sirius watched it all happen in silence.

And then, all too soon, in front of either parent was breakfast. Simultaneously, they both stopped what they were doing and put away their prior engagements. And then they poised themselves. Sirius held his breath. The moment he had been waiting for had arrived.

“Mother, Father,” Sirius called, pleased when his voice came out clear instead of tremulous.

Both his parents startled. Their heads snapped towards Sirius.

“Sirius.” Mother frowned.

Father stared at him, brow furrowing, “Did you carry in breakfast?” he asked.

Already, this was more interest than either had ever displayed in him before. _ This is a good sign, _Sirius convinced himself.

“Did you carry in breakfast.” Father repeated.

Sirius bit his lip and nodded, “I—”

“What nonsense is this,” said Father, “Has Kreacher died?”

“No, I—”

_ “Kreacher.” _called Mother. Sirius squirmed under her gaze.

With a loud crack, Kreacher apparated to the side of the table. He bowed down to Mother. “The Mistress Walburga has called the lowly Kreacher,”

“Why did Sirius carry in breakfast.” she asked, glowering down at him. “Has your training been so deficient that you cannot conduct your duties properly?”

“Kreacher apologises, Mistress Walburga.” Kreacher replied. Sirius’s blood ran cold, he had to explain everything to his parents before Kreacher got the chance to, “Kreacher trie—”

“I wanted to carry it in,” Sirius interrupted, gazing at his mother’s cold face.

His parents looked at him for a moment and then glanced at each other.

“I must have heard wrong—did he say that he _ wanted _to carry it in?” Father asked.

“That is what I heard as well.” Mother eyed Sirius. “Sirius, repeat what you just said.”

“I—I wanted to carry it in. Breakfast. I wanted to carry in your breakfast.”

Mother looked at him silently. “Kreacher, you are dismissed.”

“The lowly Kreacher takes the Mistress Walburga’s leave.” 

Mother waved him away. In a crack, Kreacher disappeared.

“How old are you.” asked Father, leaning back on his chair.

Sirius felt the first throb of hope. He hadn’t expected them to know that today was his birthday.

“Six years old, Father,” Sirius paused, wondering if he should explain what the purpose of the breakfast had been.

“Six years old.” repeated Father, coldly, “You are six years old, and yet you do not know that such tasks are beneath you.”

Sirius stared at the floor, “I knew, father.”

Father turned back to Mother, “Willfully disobedient. He must get that from your branch of the family.”

Mother gave Father a disdainful look, “Hardly.” she looked at Sirius, “You knew it was beneath you.”

Sirius swallowed, “Yes, Mother.” then, before anyone could say anything, he blurted, “I did it because I wanted to.”

Father laughed, “He wishes to rescind his position as the Black heir, and become a house elf.”

Sirius smiled haltingly, “No, I—”

“He wishes to become a slave, a servant.” his father continued.

Sirius frowned. _ Is that what they are? Slaves? _

“Cease your prattle, Orion.” Mother snapped.

Sirius cleared his throat, “I made you both breakfast—”

“Did you hear that, Walburga?” Father scoffed, amused. “He made it himself. He truly does desire lifelong servitude.”

Mother ignored Father and instead faced Sirius. She said, “You made this breakfast yourself.”

Sirius nodded. He was finding it difficult to follow what was going on, but felt that he was somehow being mocked. This wasn’t how things were meant to go.

“Come here, Sirius.” Walburga said, her voice somehow dangerous.

Sirius hesitated and then shook his head. “No.”

Father threw his head back and laughed, “Willfully disobedient, indeed.”

Sirius glanced at Father nervously. Father was observing him as one would observe a menial pet—with condescending amusement. 

This wasn’t how things were meant to go at all. They weren’t meant to laugh at him.

Sirius took a breath, and said, “I made this breakfast for you because I love you both,”

There was a startled silence.

“Pardon?” Mother asked.

Sirius repeated, “I love you both.”

Father was staring at him in astonishment. “You… love us?”

“Yes. I—I wanted to do something for you,” _ so that you can see me, for the first time, and so that you can love me also. _

His parents glanced at each other again.

“Alphard was like this when he was younger, as well,” muttered Mother.

“So it does come from your side of the family.”

“Every bough has weak branches, Orion. Don’t look at me with that disgusting expression of superiority.”

“Superiority? Me?” Father laughed mirthlessly, “Your lack of self-awareness astonishes me, Walburga.”

_ ‘They do not love each other.’ _

Mother gave Father another contemptuous look and looked towards Sirius, “I daresay that six is old enough to understand that such sentiments are not appropriate.”

_ Appropriate? _Sirius stared at her. “I made breakfast for you.”

“As you have said now countless times,” Father drawled.

Sirius looked at him. “It’s not appropriate to make breakfast?”

“Of course not, you fool.” Father said, all of a sudden as cold as ice.

Sirius could feel his heart beating in his chest. “Even if I did it because I love you?”

Father flicked imaginary lint off of his robes. He said, in a more subdued tone, “Especially if you did it because of that.”

_ ‘And they certainly don’t love the Young Master.’ _

Sirius faced Mother, desperation clear on his face. “I—I thought that—if I did it, I could show you—Mother, I—”

“You thought wrong.” Mother said. “This was a gross example of impropriety.”

Sirius felt like he’d been struck on the head with lead. He spoke as if through a thick fog, “What was? The fact that I cooked breakfast? Or the fact that I love you?”

Father barked a laugh. Sirius flinched at the sound.

“You appear unrepentant.” Mother observed. She said to Father, “Will you discipline him or shall I?”

Father admired his nails, “I believe this is the first time he’s ever done something like this.”

“What are you insinuating, Orion.”

“Merely that ignorance is not as big an error as purposeful misbehaviour.”

“He said that he knew.”

“Theory is different to practical experience, as you well know.”

Mother remained silent, scanning Father for his intentions. “Have you gone soft, Orion?”

“Please.” Father snorted derisively, “Punish the house-elf if you wish—the one that he is so fond of—what is its name?” 

Sirius blanched, “No—I didn’t know that you—” _ didn’t love me, didn’t care. _Sirius tried again, “I didn’t realise—”

“That much is apparent.” Father sighed, seemingly bored with this entire exchange.

Sirius felt a throb of desperation harden and turn into something akin to anger, “You’re not supposed to be like this.”

“Oh?” Mother said, her gaze hard, “And you? What are you supposed to be like?”

“Wh— What?” Sirius stammered.

“Already six years old, and you don’t know how to behave appropriately in your own house.” Mother continued, disapprovingly. “You don’t know how to conduct yourself in public, you don’t know how to act as the heir apparent.” Her nostrils flared, “Tell me Sirius, what _ do _you know?”

Sirius felt a lump rising in his throat.

“You cannot control your emotions and you have no tact,” Mother continued. _ “You’re not supposed to be like this.” _ she threw his own words back at him, her lip curling in distaste, “You are my biggest disappointment.”

Sirius felt something fragile break inside his chest. He tried to control his sobs, his tears blurring his vision. His father observed the exchange coolly.

_ ‘They certainly don’t love the Young Master.’ _

“For Merlin’s sake, stop your pathetic crying.” Mother snapped. “It is utterly uncouth.”

“Already six years old, and still behaving like an infant.” Father remarked.

“I haven’t even been six for a full day yet,” Sirius hiccuped, his face red, his throat constricted. “I was only five, yesterday.”

Father turned to Mother, “What, is it his birthday today?”

“How am I supposed to know, ask him yourself.” Mother replied, scowling.

It was all wrong. All of it was wrong. _ ‘There are no happy endings,’ _ Kreacher had said. _ ‘There is only reality.’ _

“Hey you, is it your birthday today?” Father asked him.

Sirius felt that his restrained sobs would burst him from the inside. He felt magic begin to collect in the air around him. It was reacting to his emotions, making his skin prickle. Sirius felt incredibly small and stupid. He wished he’d never made breakfast, at all. He wished, really, that he had a different famil—

A hard slap shocked him out of his thoughts. His head reeled to the side. The magic around him dissipated. Sirius looked up, wide eyed, shock smothering the pain.

His mother stood before him, towering over him, glaring, “Stop crying.”

_ ‘There is no space for love in this world, Young Master Sirius Black. And there is certainly no space for love in this household.’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the spacing of the paragraphs because I think this looks nicer. I was using larger spacing before because I didn't want it to look too congested, but I think this amount of spacing is fine?? (Idk, if you preferred the old spacing, comment below)
> 
> And yeah, this chapter is pretty short — it was originally meant to be a sub part of a larger chapter, but then I felt like it deserved a chapter of its own, so there you go.


	16. Ancient Indian Magic, The Best Wingman In The World, A Smidge of Othello, and A Dash of Heart-break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is currently 7:14 am and I am approaching the end of an all nighter.
> 
> Why did I pull an all-nighter? HAHAHHHA WHO KNOWS i SURE DONT!
> 
> Anyways, forgive me if this chapter is utter nonsense. It didn't turn out how I planned it at all, the characters just did their own thing, and I am so weak that I just let it happen.

“Trust me on this,” James repeated, grinning in a very untrustworthy manner.

Remus fought hard to resist a scowl. He wasn’t mad, or anything, it was just too fucking early to be awake.

“Like everything that comes out of your mouth,” said Lily, “this smells like bullshit.”

“That was particularly vulgar, Evans,” James waggled his eyebrows, “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

“You say that as if—”

“Okay,” Remus interrupted, because it was _ way too early for this, _“Sure, I trust you, James.” James smiled widely, “I’m just—you know—a bit curious as to why we all have to—”

James shot Remus a pleading look. Remus sighed.

“I don’t think Sirius will appreciate this as much as you think he’ll appreciate this.” Remus supplied, instead.

“He’ll love it,” replied James, with staggering, but not exactly reassuring, confidence, _ “Trust me.” _

Remus witnessed Lily giving James a withering look. As for everyone else… Marlene looked overjoyed. All the girls did—as well as a few of the boys, now that Remus was paying proper attention. The only pained expressions were Lily’s and Peter’s. 

And probably also his own.

This was all just a bit, well—_excessive. _ And also, terribly, terribly awkward. Remus walked briskly towards James and pulled him to the side before beginning, in a low voice, “Do _ we _have to do this as well?”

“Who’s ‘we’?” James asked.

Remus looked at James incredulously, _“_‘We,’ as in you, me and Peter.”

“It’ll mean the most from us—we _ have _ to, Remus.” James pleaded, “What’s the point of Sirius getting all those blessings if he can’t get them from _ us. _”

Panic fluttered in Remus’s stomach. “But—this—okay, I _ get _ the whole blessing thing, and I get why it’d be a good birthday present, but, _ come on, _surely there’s another way to, er, deliver the blessing?”

James shook his head with irritating glee, “Nope. It’s ancient Indian magic, you know. You can’t just remake rituals because you don’t like them.”

Remus felt like laughing. Not out of joy, or amusement, or even derision. But rather—as he so often found himself doing—out of sheer dismay. “James. It’d be incest.”

“Of course it wouldn’t, you plonker,” James snickered, “Anyways, kissing wasn’t all that romantic in ancient, magical, India. Really, it’s all rather platonic.”

Remus bit his lip, “Platonic, you say.”

James nodded vigorously. 

It sure didn’t _ seem _ awfully platonic. Remus’s heart was thumping unbearably hard just imagining it. Remus wondered, again, whether James was just fucking around with them all. The question, then, became _ why. _What could possibly be his motivation? Remus eyed him.

“If I find out you’re fucking with us all, there will be consequences.”

“I’m terrified,” James returned. 

“Really?” Remus asked, secretly pleased.

“Of course not, you pillock. You wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Remus deflated slightly, “You realise that I’m an actual werewolf, right.”

James pat Remus on the shoulder and grinned, “A sheep in wolf’s clothing.”

Remus shook his head, partly touched, partly offended, but mostly resigned. James’s unnerving optimism was going to get him into serious trouble one day.

“Ladies, please, gossip afterwards,” Marlene called.

James turned back towards the group, his face brightening. “You get where I’m coming from, don’t you Marley?” he asked her.

Marlene nodded sagely, “Of course, Jamesie. Only the best of the best for Sirius.”

James smiled, “Our little star deserves no less.”

“Are you all seriously considering this?” Lily asked the group, skeptically. “Ancient Indian Ritual, my arse. I’ve never heard—”

“Um,” interrupted James, “I’m Indian.”

“You’ve got Indian _ heritage, _Potter. I doubt you can even speak the language—”

James broke her off with what sounded like rapid fire hindi. After a while, his voice took on a softer, lyrical lilt. Then, the consonants hardened. Once he was done, James took a deep bow to the surrounding applause. “Hindi, Urdu, and Tamil. I can also speak Punjabi and Kashmiri, but I didn’t want to brag, of course.”

Lily stared at him. “Of course,” she repeated. Then, she shook her head, “For all we know you made all that up—”

“Oh, come off it, Lils,” Marlene moaned.

Lily looked at Remus as if to say, _ Are you fucking kidding me? _Remus looked back at her consolingly. Life with the Gryffindors was a maelstrom of fuckwittery.

To be fair, life with the Slytherins was much the same. Remus imagined this was also true of the Ravenclaws. Most likely the Hufflepuffs as well.

Honestly, Hogwarts was just—

“Well, whatever, I’m not participating in—whatever _ this _is meant to be.” Lily crossed her arms.

James frowned at her, “It’s Sirius’s birthday today.”

Lily squirmed on the spot. “I’ll say Happy Birthday to him, but I’m not—”

“Who knew she was so _ mean,” _hushed James, to Marlene. Marlene tutted. 

Lily’s face began to burn, “I’m not—this isn’t—I can’t _ kiss—” _

Remus gazed at Lily with pity. “Apparently it’s platonic.” He paused, “_Apparently.” _

“Come on, Lils, it’s a blessing,” Marlene said. Then, glancing at the girls behind her, smirked, adding, “In more ways than one.”

Lily urged Remus with her gaze. Remus winced, “There’s no way out of it, Lils.”

Lily glared down at the floor, “I won’t do it.”

“Do you really hate us that much?” James asked, smiling what Remus had dubbed his ‘Great Fake Fuckwit Smile’. 

Remus winced again. This was too awkward for so early in the morning. He scanned the common room and deposited himself next to Ollie on the couches. Out of shooting range, both boys shared a quick commiserating look between them.

Lily turned her glare on James, “I don’t _ hate _Black—”

“Oh, so it’s just me you hate.” James raised his eyebrows, not quite managing The Great Fake Fuckwit Smile.

Remus covered his eyes with his hands and sighed soundlessly.

There was a short silence. Lily’s voice spoke up, quietly, “I don’t—_hate _you, Potter. Hate is a strong word.”

There was another silence. Remus parted his fingers to glimpse at the poorly concealed joy on James’s face. The bloke had upsettingly low standards.

“Oookay.” Remus said, into the unbearable quiet. “So, Lily, are you in?”

Lily pursed her lips, “I suppose.”

Remus smiled at her placatingly. “It’s platonic.”

“Apparently.” Marlene chimed, unhelpfully.

“It’s platonic if you want it to be platonic.” Remus amended.

Giselda murmured in the far corner of the room, “And not platonic, if you don’t want it to be.” 

A fit of girlish giggles arose in the air. Remus couldn’t help his smile. This was a dream come true for many people. Remus caught Peter’s horrified look—_And a nightmare come to life for others. _

“What if Sirius doesn’t want to?” Peter asked, pale faced.

“Don’t be nervous, Pete, Sirius wouldn’t reject you.” James consoled.

“Shut up, James.” Remus said, “He’s got a point.”

James shrugged. “Has Sirius ever turned down a kiss?”

_ No. He hasn’t. _Remus felt himself flush to the memory of soft lips. He willed his gaze to the floor, his heartbeat a jackhammer.

“Anyways—it’s platonic.” repeated James. “You’re just blessing _ his _ magic, with _ your _magic. The most effective way to do that is through lip-to-lip contact.”

Marlene beamed, “Fab. Is there a spell?”

“Nope,” James smiled.

Lily narrowed her eyes, “Is this a legitimate thing.”

“I’d do it either way,” Marlene spoke up. Behind her, there was a sea of fervent nods.

“All you have to do is say something nice to him before you kiss him—to make him more responsive to the blessing.” James explained.

_ “Utter _ tosh.” Lily muttered. Remus wanted to agree. Remus very much wanted to agree. But he just couldn’t see _ why _James would make up something like this. So it had to be legitimate. It just didn’t make sense otherwise. Not that James ever made a whole lot of sense, mind.

“Oh, and remember not to tell him why we’re doing this,” James continued.

“Will it ruin the blessing?” Pete asked, frowning.

“Nah,” James said, grinning a shit-eating grin, “It’s just more fun that way.”

* * *

“It’s not like I was expecting anything,” Sirius explained to Basil, in his empty room.

Basil’s nose twitched.

“Don’t give me that look.” Sirius pulled a sweater over his head, “It is unbecoming of a pet.”

Basil made a derisive sound somewhere between a purr and a squeak.

“I’m just kidding,” Sirius snorted. “I was emulating Walby—the witch who birthed me.” He smiled at Basil, “I get sentimental sometimes.” Basil squeaked. “That was a joke, you insufferable bellend. I don’t own you.”

Sirius moved in front of the mirror and murmured an enchantment to tie his tie. “Remember Basil, nobody can own you if you own yourself.” Basil growled. “Well, okay. That’s not really true at all, if you think about all those people forced into—” Sirius paused, and then glared at Basil’s reflection in the mirror, “You know _ what, _ Basilides Potter-Lupin-Pettigrew. I’m sick of you constantly judging me. It bloody well _ is _ true. As long as you believe that you own yourself, nobody else can truly ever own you—don’t you look at me like that, Basilides—_oh my god, _ is that Remus’s watch?!” Sirius stared in horror at the sparking object in Basil’s paws. 

Then, he deflated in relief, “Oh thank Merlin, they’re just James’s cufflinks.” and down they went into Basil’s pouch. “You thieving bastard,” Sirius remarked, affectionately.

Basil purred at Sirius and flipped in the air. 

“Very impressive, Basil.” Sirius said, because it was important to validate Basil’s tricks or he would sulk for _ hours _and Sirius would feel unbearably guilty about it.

Sirius stared at his reflection, “I look the bloody same as always.” Basil growled, “Yes, okay, no need to be sarcastic. It’s not like I was expecting a sudden explosion of sensuality now that I’m fourteen, or anything. I’m not a werewolf.” Basil tilted his head. Sirius made a face at him through the mirror. “Shut up. I didn’t mean it that way.”

Sirius cast a quick tempus. It was only seven thirty. His eyes trailed over the empty beds of his roommates.

“Where _ are _they, Basil?” he asked. Basil flipped in the air again, “Brilliant, Basil.” Sirius frowned, offhandedly. 

He turned back to his reflection. “As I said, I wasn’t expecting anything. It’s foolish to have expectations, you know.”

Basil dove into James’s open wardrobe.

“Okay, fine, you adorable tosser, I _ was _expecting something.” Sirius acquiesced, combing his fingers through his hair. “Happy now, Basil?”

Basil squeaked in response.

“Wanker.” Sirius muttered. “You can’t blame me for it. They—they’re different from…” Sirius trailed off, “They’re different.” he repeated, softly. “Though I suppose I never learn from my mistakes, do I?” he was speaking to himself now. “Sirius Black, fourteen years old and still behaving like a child.” he pushed his hair backwards. “You never learn, do you?”

Basil bumped his head against Sirius’s leg and purred.

“Basil, you mushy berk.” Sirius grumbled, picking up the niffler and depositing him on his head.

“They’ve done something every year, you know.” Sirius continued, after a moment. “Even though they didn’t have to.” Basil pulled at Sirius’s hair. “Pull a strand out and I’ll eat you for lunch.” Basil backed off. Basil was really rather intelligent. 

Sirius sighed. “There’s no obligation or anything.” Basil snorted. “I’m being silly, aren’t I?” Basil shook his head and purred. Sirius was overcome by a sudden shock of tenderness. He said, thickly, “I love you too, Basil.”

And then he went down to breakfast.

* * *

James stood up on his seat as soon as he spotted Sirius enter The Great Hall.

“James, get down.” Remus whispered out the side of his mouth, resisting the urge to cover his face with his hands and deny all relation to the barmy git.

James ignored him, “Sirius!”

Everyone was staring. Remus gave up and deliberately bit into his french toast. From the corner of his eye, he saw McGonagall rub her temples. 

Sirius waved at James, smiling. “You all got up so early today,”

Remus’s countenance darkened. He muttered his agreement. Six o clock. He’d been awoken, forcefully, at six o clock.

James smiled a manic smile. Remus took another deliberate bite of toast, ignoring the knowledge that they’d been friends far too long—and far too publicly—for his feigned ignorance to be in any way believable. 

“You are the best friend I’ve ever had,” James announced, loudly, to Sirius. And also the whole school. “Oh, no offence, Remus, Peter.” he added, after a small pause.

“None taken,” Remus sighed, at the same time as “It’s okay,” came out of Peter’s mouth.

“Anyway!” James turned back to Sirius, who had, by this point, reached the table and was looking up at him, amused. “Happy Birthday, Sirius. I love you so much.” James looked down at Sirius, raw affection colouring his face. “You brilliant twit, you deserve the whole world and more,” and then James reached down, grabbed Sirius’s collar, and pulled him upwards to plant a loud, smacking kiss on his mouth.

Everyone stared, gobsmacked, as they were so often rendered by The Idiot Duo.

On the separate Professors’ Table, McGonagall rubbed her forehead in defeat and stood from her seat. McGonagall deserved a holiday. _ Less than half a term left till Christmas, Professor, _Remus called to her in his mind.

James let go of Sirius’s collar, smiled widely, and then turned towards the Ravenclaw table. Still standing on the bench, he yelled, “Sakura! I still like you very much! I wanked to—”

With a stern _ Silencio, _James’s voice was stolen from him.

McGonagall nodded at Sirius from a few spaces away, “Happy Birthday, Black,” Her face then lost all semblance of warmth as she turned to glare at James, “Detention, Potter.”

James gave her a thumbs up and sat down on his seat.

Sirius blinked owlishly.

Remus held back hysterical laughter. He looked down at his half-eaten breakfast, all of a sudden ill with premonition. 

* * *

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment, mate, I do,” Sirius said, “And I get it, I _ totally _ get it—I mean, _ look _at me—but it’d practically be incest, you know?”

“Mmmmppgh,” James mumbled through his toast, by which he meant, _ ‘Yeah, I get it, idiot.’ _

Sirius sighed in relief. “Thank Merlin.”

“You’re not my type, mate.” James said, after he’d swallowed.

Sirius didn’t know whether to be offended or relieved. Eventually, relief won out and he reached for the last scone. Unfortunately, Evans, who was currently sitting across the table, had reached for the very scone at the same time.

Sirius narrowed his eyes. Evans narrowed her eyes back.

“Evans.” Sirius said.

“Black.” Evans returned.

“It’s my birthday today.”

“Happy Birthday, Black.”

Sirius beamed at her, “Thanks, Evans, that’s awfully kind of you—_why _ aren’t you letting go of the scone.”

“Just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you’re suddenly entitled to everything.”

Sirius scowled at her. He didn’t really have anything to say to that. So, instead, “Don’t you think you should lay off the scones, Evans? I know how conscious you are about your weight.”

Evans glowered at Sirius. They were both thinking of last week, when Sakura had visited the Gryffindor common-room with her recently baked chocolate-chip cookies, and James, emotional sod that he was, had kissed her dramatically in front of everyone to display his thanks. After she had left, flushed with pleasure, James had grinned and offered everyone the baked goods.

“She’s adorable, isn’t she?” James had gushed, “She’s an amazing baker, too—you’re all free to take some, if you’d like—here, Sirius, Peter—Remus, you too—Olly, come on, take one—Marley—Evans—”

“No, thanks.” Evans had interrupted, disdainfully, “I’m on a diet.”

James had shrugged, “Your loss, Evans,” and continued, “Hey, Ying Li!”

_ Sirius – 334; Evans – 333. _

Mutually Assured Destruction lingered on the horizon. 

Evans strengthened her grip on the scone and smiled. Sirius wished she wouldn’t do that, she was going to ruin it.

“Thanks for the concern, Black.” she said, her eyes glinting cruelly, “But, wait, aren’t you allergic to sugar?”

A muscle in Sirius’s jaw twitched.

They were both now thinking of the last Hogsmeade weekend:

Remus had bought this new caramel bonbon-thingy from Honeydukes, and in the process of eating it, had managed to get it everywhere on his face. And so, of course, _ the tongue _ had emerged. It wasn’t that Sirius hadn’t expected it. It was just that regardless of how prepared he thought he was, _ the tongue _ always hit harder. Sirius—that one, crushing, time—had felt that tongue touch his own. And it was licking at that brown smear at the side of Remus’s mouth. And, you know, it was all _ pink. _ And it, just, it was _ there, _ and it was a bit difficult to concentrate on what anyone was saying and it—it occured to Sirius that it was kind of dangerous of Remus to behave this way in public, where everyone could see him doing all—_that. _ It was practically obscene. And, oh _ Merlin, _ he just wasn’t getting the smear! His tongue was in the wrong place! He had to move it a bit more to the right, and forward, and then into Sirius’s mouth—_wait, no, ahahahaahhaha no, no— _

“Hello, Sirius?” Remus had waved his hand in front of Sirius’s face.

Sirius had registered, with unbelievable panic, that Remus had been trying to get his attention for a while.

“Ah, yeah?” Sirius had said, as calmly as he could, his brain melting out of his ears.

He heard Evans snort, from the side. He didn’t even know why Evans was there. Who the fuck had invited _ her? _God, and Sirius had been having the nicest midday, tongue-filled fantasy as well—

“Do you want a lick?” Remus asked.

Sirius’s heart had stuttered to a stop. _ “Whaaattt—_no, of course not. Why would you even think that, Remus, that’s so weird, _ ahahhahaha, _ you strange boy, _ ahahahhaa. Merlin, _ why would you ask that, Remus, why would you ever think that I would want a lick, what made you wonder if I would possibly want a _ lick, _ Merlin, how absolutely strange. A _ lick! _ Imagine! _ Ahahahah—” _

Remus had given him a strange look, “I thought they were your favourite?” and _ of course! Sirius was an idiot he’d been talking about the peppermint candies, not the fucking _ action, _ oh my fucking god, WHY HAD SIRIUS BEEN BORN WITH VOCAL CHORDS, _and Sirius’s brain was on puddles in the floor.

And Sirius had to find a conceivable reply, and fast, and the only thing that had come to his brainless skull was: “They _ were _my favourite, but not anymore.”

And Remus had laughed a little and said, “Still though, what an overreaction,”

And Sirius had freaked out because he was _ so fucking transparent, _ and, _ Remus was going to find out, _ and had returned: “I’m allergic to _ sugar, _ Remus, I’m not _ overreacting.” _

And Remus had stared at him and said, “What? No you’re not.”

And Sirius had insisted that, “Yes! I am! I just found out! I _ swear!” _ and in an attempt to convince Remus of his lie, had been avoiding sugar ever since, except it was now Thursday, and Sirius was pretty sure Remus had forgotten about the whole sugar fiasco, because Sirius had pretty much forgotten about the whole sugar fiasco, except Evans, the _ SATAN SPAWN, _had been there too.

_ Sirius – 334; Evans – 334. _

Remus turned to Sirius, “Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about that.”

Sirius cursed Evans a thousand times in his mind. He let go of the scone.

_ Sirius – 334; Evans – 335. _

“Looks like Black’d forgotten as well,” Evans remarked, lightly.

_ Sirius – 334; Evans – 336. _

Remus gave Sirius another strange look. Those looks had been increasing in frequency lately, and it was scaring Sirius. It felt like Remus was almost on to something, but there was nothing to be on to! There was nothing to be on to!

“You should really remember your own allergies, Black.” Evans continued.

_ Sirius – 334; Evans – 337. _

Sirius glared at her. _ You’ve won the round, arsehole! Stop it! Mutually Assured Destruction! _

“You shouldn’t act more stupid than you are. I know you’ve got a brain in there somewhere.” Evans said, reaching out and grabbing the front of Sirius’s robes. Sirius mentally prepared himself for the blow that was to follow. Except, Evans didn’t punch Sirius, or slap him, or scratch his eyes out. She pulled him across the table and kissed him, lightly and quickly, on the lips. 

Sirius stared at her, stunned. He glanced at James. James waved back and grinned. _ What the fuck. _Was Sirius stuck in a strange nightmare?

“Evans,” Sirius began, nervously, “I’m sorry but—”

“Spare me, Black.” Evans interrupted, glaring viciously.

It was good that she understood where she stood. Still though, Sirius felt a tad uncomfortable. He respected Evans. He felt like she deserved an apology of some sort. “Listen, It’s not you—”

“I know,” she interrupted, “It’s you. You’re you.”

Sirius nodded back at her. “And I’m out of your league.”

Evans stared at him. For an unnerving moment, Sirius felt like a cockroach stuck to the sole of her shoe. And then the moment passed.

Evans bit into her scone, glanced at Remus, made a self-satisfied noise, and then got up and left The Great Hall.

_ Touché, _thought Sirius, sourly.

* * *

Remus couldn’t make himself do it.

Every time someone kissed Sirius, Remus remembered that this was all meant to be light-hearted and platonic. It looked so easy, the way they did it. James, even Lily—who’d been so opposed initially. 

It was a deep and humourless irony—like the ones so prevalent in Remus’s life—that the ease with which everyone seemed to kiss Sirius just reminded Remus that there was no way his kiss could ever be even half as nonchalant. 

Maybe Sirius would be blasé about it. It was likely, actually, that Sirius would be blasé about it by the time that Remus gathered enough courage to actually _ do _ something. But, Remus just—_couldn’t. _

Although he’d always been affectionate with his parents—his mum, in particular—he’d also spent the majority of his childhood alone. Those lonely afternoons seemed to have occured an existence ago, but really, they formed a large part of Remus’s identity. They reminded Remus of the fundamental difference between him and everyone else. There existed a chasm between him and the rest of humanity, and regardless of how many bridges he managed to build, it was difficult—impossible even—to forget its existence. 

Affection came naturally to Remus. Only naturally and never on purpose. It was so easy to act intimately with someone thoughtlessly. It was insurmountable to do it with genuine intention. As soon as thought was involved, everything became so unthinkably awkward, and Remus just, well, he wondered whether he was imposing. 

There was also fear. Remus was perpetually terrified—of himself, of other people, of his inevitable fate. But deeper than that: of his crippling loneliness, and of his desire to belong, for once. Of his desire for love: to love, to be loved, like he didn’t deserve. Like he’d never deserved, and perhaps never would deserve.

_ Who could ever learn to love a monster? _

It was almost possible to think he did, sometimes. Other times, senseless fear would overtake him and all he’d be able to think was a tangle of dark thoughts and insubstantial emotions. Insecurity, he believed it was called. _ Or perhaps, _ thought he, _ just a startling level of cognisance. _

Whatever it was—his fear, his inhumanity, his weakness—or maybe, really, _ the memory_, hazy and lust-filled, and so fucking terrifying that recollection made it hard to breathe. On that line of thought, it was also, possibly, Sirius’s smell—which would drive Remus insane, if he let it. His smile, as well, which was like an arrow through the heart. And the way that he tried, ineffectually, to be all suave. The way that he panicked and said stupid things. His blushes—all that red. His unexpected bashfulness. His loyalty. His kindness—like an uncut diamond. The intensity of his emotions and his selective sensitivity. Even his irritating romanticism. All of it, really. It made it impossible.

And it was confusing to ponder the reasons. There were too many. Starting from Remus’s freakishness, catching on Sirius’s smile, and never really ending.

No, never really ending at all.

* * *

Around the sixth time it happened, Sirius caught on. Although what exactly he had caught, he had no idea. But he knew, somewhat, that something was up.

That being said, Sirius was having the time of his life. Consequently, he really didn’t care to investigate further.

“Sirius,” said Marlene, trailing a finger down his chest.

“Is there a specific order that you all are doing this?” Sirius asked, eyeing her lips, “Or is it every man for himself,”

“Do you really care?” her finger had reached his abdomen. She quirked an eyebrow up at him.

Sirius felt the corners of his lips rise, “Well…”

Marlene smirked and moved closer. Sirius wove his hands around her waist.

“No,” he admitted, “Not really.”

“Smart lad—and devilishly attractive, as well.” Marlene murmured as she leant up and kissed him.

They emerged who-knows-when to the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Olliver stood in front of them, his face red.

“Hi Ollie,” Marlene said, still in Sirius’s arms.

“Hi.” he looked at Sirius.

“Oh, is it your turn now?” Sirius asked.

Ollie shook his head. “You’re, um, you’re blocking the entrance.”

“Charms can wait, Olliver.” Giselda rolled her eyes.

“Uh, class has technically started?—”

“Charms can wait.” she repeated, turning to Sirius.

“Well, see you inside,” Marlene kissed Sirius’s cheek and pushed away before walking through the doors. 

Giselda bore into Sirius with her blue eyes, a flush rising in her cheeks. “Sirius. You’re so incredibly fit.”

Sirius grinned, opening his arms to her, “Come snog me.”

And they snogged.

They broke apart to the sound of a throat clearing.

“Déjà vu, Ollie.” Sirius said. 

Olliver’s face was completely crimson. “Class started five minutes ago—”

“See you inside,” Giselda whispered in Sirius’s ear, before giggling and detaching herself.

Sirius grinned after her and then turned to Olliver. “Is it your turn now?”

Olliver looked so incredibly pained. It was hilarious. Sirius waggled his eyebrows.

Ollie took a breath. “You’re a decent Keeper when you’re trying and Remus doesn’t show up to practice.”

Sirius scowled, lowering his voice so that the small crowd of students who were waiting to enter the classroom couldn’t hear. “I’m a bloody fantastic Keeper when I’m trying and Remus doesn’t show up to practice.”

“Yeah, you’re alright.” Ollie said, before leaning forward and giving Sirius a quick, chaste kiss on the lips. “Now move, mate. I have to ask Flitwick a question about the homework.”

* * *

As with all of James’s ‘fantastic ideas,’ this one eventually turned to shite. In this case, it happened as soon as the other houses and years realised something was up and unanimously joined in.

Sirius was, for lack of a better description, completely buried under a raging storm of adolescent children. Every single break-time, in between classes, and even—on a few memorable occasions—during class itself, Sirius was being complimented and kissed. 

His lips were completely bruised.

Remus gave James a hard look. James smiled nervously back.

“To be fair,” James started, “It wasn’t completely my fault.”

Remus glanced at Sirius. He was currently kissing a second-year Slytherin. A handful of students were waiting in line in front of him. Remus strengthened the hardness of the look he gave James.

James tried to play it off. He shrugged, “I wasn’t the one who told all of them.”

Remus pinched James’s cheek, “James.”

James tried to grin. “It is what it is.”

Remus pinched his other cheek. _ “James.” _

“I swear! It wasn’t me!”

Peter spoke up from beside Remus, “The line’s gotten longer?”

And of course, the line had gotten longer. In between kisses, Sirius looked at the line with a strange mixture of apprehension and awe on his face.

Okay, it was a _ little _ funny. 

“They’re waiting to get their first kisses,” Cissa observed, from Remus’s side.

“Poor Sirius,” Peter said.

“My arse,” Cissa rolled her eyes, “Look at him, he’s over the moon.”

“It was _ my _ idea.” James revealed, proudly.

“Thanks, James.” Cissa nodded, “Nothing beats watching innocence being unknowingly besmirched.”

“She’s kidding.” Remus explained to the staring bystanders, “She doesn’t mean it.”

“I’m pretty sure Sirius knows that he’s being besmirched,” James said.

Cissa gave him a pitying look, “I’m talking about the idiots waiting in line.”

Remus huffed a breath of laughter. “That was a joke.” he said, to the gaping students who had overheard.

“It really wasn’t.” Cissa said, under her breath.

Remus shushed her affectionately. He turned back to James. “What are you?”

“The handsomest bloke in school.”

“What are you.” Remus repeated.

James sighed. “An idiot.”

Remus nodded and let go on James’s cheeks. 

“Still though,” James said, “You have to admit, it’s hilarious.”

Peter giggled. Cissa nodded. Remus grinned at James in acquiescence.

“Hey!” James exclaimed, after a pause. “Why did I have to do the whole Idiot Admission thing if you thought it was funny?!”

“It’s the principle of the matter.” Remus explained. “And also, you _ are _an idiot.”

“Fair enough.” James agreed. “A hilarious idiot, though?”

“Moderately amusing, at best.” Cissa replied.

James sighed in mock sorrow. 

Remus and Peter laughed.

* * *

When Sirius turned around only to come face to face with Cissa, he took a half dozen steps backwards.

“No.” he said. “No, Cissa. I’m not okay with that. That would be actual incest.”

Cissa took a step forward, “Ah yes, one of the favourite Black traditions.”

Sirius shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”

Cissa made a disgusted face. “You’re the one who brought it up.”

“Please don’t kiss me. Anything but that. I’d rather die.”

“The sentiment is mutual, fool. What made you think I’d ever do anything so disgusting.”

Sirius winced. “It’s been a long day.”

Cissa gave him a cool glance. “Still waiting for a particular kiss?”

Sirius felt his cheeks heat. “No.”

“Riiight.”

“Why are you here,” Sirius scowled.

“Toying with stupid people is my favourite pastime.”

“Hilarious! Now, fuck off.”

“Don’t be boring.”

“Tell me what you want or fuck off.”

Cissa eyed him. “Going somewhere?”

Sirius glanced away. “No.”

“Eager to find a particular someone?”

_ “No.” _

“Riiiight.”

Sirius felt his irritation level rise rapidly. “Did Lucy dump you or something.”

“As if.”

_ “Riiiight.” _ he mocked her.

“Don’t be an arsehole just because you’re bitter you haven’t kissed him yet.”

The identity of ‘him’ remained unspoken. Sirius lost the battle against his rising emotions.

“That’s none of your fucking business—”

“Ooh, spot on, huh?” Cissa smiled, smug.

Sirius glared at her, clasping his mouth shut.

“That’s awfully pathetic of you, Sirius.”

_ I know, _he didn’t say.

“You’ve never kissed him before, anyway.” she continued.

_ I have, _he managed to swallow. 

Cissa eyed him. “Because you’re a coward—”

“I _ have _kissed him actually.” Sirius glowered at her.

“—and also incredibly stupid. Thanks for the confirmation, _ imbécile.” _

“Shite.”

“I can’t believe that _ still _works on you.”

Sirius scowled. “Don’t tell anyone. Remus doesn’t want—”

“Yeah, yeah,” she interrupted, “Anyway, you have to stop letting people manipulate you like this.”

Sirius eyed her suspiciously. “Worried?”

“For you, yeah.” Cissa rolled her eyes.

Sirius felt oddly touched, “Cissa,”

“Did I miss anything interesting?” called Reg’s voice.

Sirius turned. Reg was standing behind him, holding a huge box in his arms. Sirius looked back at Cissa.

She smiled, “Surprise.”

Sirius turned back to the box in Reg’s arms.

“Happy Birthday.” Reg grinned.

Sirius turned to face Cissa, “You—him—surprise—”

“Hard to believe he’s fourteen with that startling level of intellect.” Cissa observed, to Reg.

“I threw a music box at his head once as a child.” Reg replied, “I think it broke him.”

But Sirius wasn’t listening.

“Are you _ crying?” _Reg laughed.

“No.” Sirius said, through his tears.

“Crybaby.” Cissa mocked, fondly.

Reg placed the box in front of Sirius. “Well. Open it.”

Sirius stared at the box. He then got up and pulled Cissa and Reg into a hug.

“He’s getting snot in my hair.” Cissa complained.

“Yeah, he does that.” Reg sighed.

A soft camera shutter went off. Sirius turned towards a floating camera. 

“Future blackmail material.” Reg explained, gesturing towards Sirius’s face. “All that snot.”

Sirius was too touched to care.

“Open it, then.” Cissa said. “Dromeda had to go all the way into Muggle London for it.” 

Sirius pointed his wand at the box and murmured an enchantment. It unboxed itself in a neat flurry of paper and cardboard. Inside was an acoustic guitar. Sirius recognised it from Muggle Studies.

“It’s a gootar.” said Cissa.

“They use it in all that Muggle nonsense you listen to.” 

“Guitar.” Sirius corrected, staring at the instrument.

“Guitar, gootar,” Cissa rolled her eyes.

“Shouldn’t be too hard to learn, since you can already play the violin.” Reg said.

“And the piano.” Sirius added.

“Yeah whatever.”

A moment passed in silence.

“So.” said Cissa. “Do you like it.”

Reg was looking at him.

Sirius beamed at them both. “I love it.” and then he added, quickly. “And I love you both. And Dromada. I love Dromeda too.”

They both looked away, awkward with pleasure. 

“Right.” Cissa cleared her throat. “Iloveyoubothtoo, I have an Arithmancy essay due tomorrow, bye.” And she brisk walked away.

Reg looked at Sirius’s shoes. “I,” he cleared his throat. “Love you. And I love Cissa too.” he called a bit louder after Cissa’s walking back. Cissa raised a hand in acknowledgment.

Sirius smiled.

“Well, would you look at the time! Bye!” and then Reg brisk walked away too.

Sirius loved his family very much.

* * *

“You’re telling me you _ still _haven’t blessed him?” James scolded.

Remus exchanged a glance with Peter.

“You’re his best friends!” James continued. “How can you not have blessed him yet?!”

“Well, there hasn’t been much opportunity—” Remus started.

_ “Make _that opportunity. Don’t be a loser.” James glared at him.

James Potter was weirdly pedantic about the strangest things.

Remus felt a throb of guilt. “Yeah, okay. I will. After Dinner.”

_ “Before _Dinner.” James demanded.

Peter squirmed uncomfortably next to Remus. “Okay.” 

Remus wrinkled his nose. “No promises.”

“Remus!” James chided.

“I’ll do it by today!” Remus defended himself. “Anyways. Don’t you have detention with McGonagall.” 

James sniffed. “It’s after dinner.” 

Remus narrowed his eyes. _ Wait a minute. _“Is that why you’re so adamant about me doing it before dinner.”

James looked away. “No.”

_ What the fuck? _“James.”

“I have to meet Sakura.” James said, in a poor attempt to change the subject. “And explain that I’m not secretly in love with Sirius and that I want to continue dating her.”

Remus stared at James, wondering whether it was worth the effort to figure out why he was being so weird. After a quick moment Remus decided that _ No, actually, it’s not worth the effort, _and sat down to finish his Defence Against The Dark Arts paper on Boggarts.

But every so often, his thoughts would trail back to what he was now obligated—as per the Unofficial Gryffindor Code of Honour—to do. And his stomach would drop a few dozen metres. 

* * *

It was now Peter’s turn. He stood before Sirius, looking so ill that Sirius almost felt second-hand nervousness on his behalf.

“Pete.” greeted Sirius.

“Hello.” said Peter. “I—uh—I kind of need to kiss you—”

“I know, don’t worry.” said Sirius, “Go for it.”

“You _ know?” _said James, from the side. “Who told him?!”

“He probably figured it out himself.” muttered Remus, “You know, using his brain.” 

“I don’t know everything.” Sirius admitted.

This seemed to mollify James somewhat. Remus rolled his eyes. 

Remus was the only one amongst the Gryffindor third-years who hadn’t kissed him yet. _Why? _thought Sirius, as he worried his lip. 

“Please don’t.” squeaked Peter, as pale as a corpse.

Sirius felt a bit bad. “Look, if it makes it easier for you—I can switch forms?”

“He’s not going to kiss a _ dog, _Sirius.” James called.

Maybe Sirius hadn’t thought that idea through properly.

“Thanks for offering, though.” said Peter.

“No problem, mate.” returned Sirius, “Just go for it. Don’t think too much.”

Peter nodded briskly. “Okay. Um. I think that you’re really brave and confident. I really respect that about you.” and then he leaned forward to kiss Sirius, awkwardly, on the lips.

“See? That wasn’t too bad.” said Sirius.

Peter looked miserable. “That was my first kiss.”

Sirius winced. “Right.”

“Awe Pete.” said James, “Hey, at least Sirius is a bit of a babe, yeah?”

Sirius nodded fervently.

“Shut up, both of you.” Remus said. “It doesn’t have to count if you don’t want it to count, Peter.”

Peter looked up at Remus.

Remus smiled back, “You can just think of this as having touched lips with Sirius. You can save your first ‘kiss,’” air quotes here, “for whoever you want.”

Peter nodded. “Okay. Thanks Remus.” 

Remus reached out and pat Peter on the back.

Sirius wondered whether Remus thought of _ their _first kiss like this as well. Just touching lips. Oh, and an inadvertent explosion of chaos, a string of supernovas, no biggie. 

Not a kiss, at all. Just a lapse in rationality. 

Sirius thought, dully, that if he were to touch his chest right now it would sting like the fresh soreness of a new bruise. 

* * *

Dinner was a blur. Inside Remus’s mind spun the never-ending cycle of freaking out, consequent castigation, a moment of guilt, rumination, and then more freaking out. 

Sometime during all that, the more rational side of his mind approximated that he had maybe fifteen minutes to get _ it _over with before people noticed his absence. And more importantly, Sirius’s absence—which was infinitely more conspicuous.

The more rational side of his mind had accepted the task and its subsequent repercussions. The more rational side of his mind was capable of sitting calmly as Death approached for the final adieu and the first hello.

Unfortunately, the more rational side of his mind was a tiny, floating island on the ginormous ocean of Remus identity. And so, Remus was not okay. But Remus was also very good at not being okay. So he dealt it with it, because there was nothing else to do, and time passed, all too fast.

He couldn’t do _ it _ in front of other people, that was for sure. If he was going to lose all his shit, he’d much rather have one witness than countless. And so, he hid in Filch’s broom storage, awaiting Sirius’s approach.

The irony of carrying out a task that he felt honour-bound to do in such a very undignified way was not lost on Remus. He looked around the small room. At least it was clean-ish. Well, as clean-ish as broom storage rooms could go. 

_ Whatever, _thought Remus. He’d only be in there for a few moments, anyway.

He closed his eyes and listened for the sound of any approaching footsteps. It occurred to him, suddenly, that Sirius might walk by in a group. That would be catastrophic for Remus’s plan. He called on the luck that had very scarcely visited him throughout his lifetime. _ Please let him be alone. _ thought Remus, _ Please. _

A few minutes passed. Remus listened for the sound of familiar foot-steps. Eventually, he heard them. Accompanied, because of course, by another set of footsteps.

Remus sighed. He opened the door and walked out, as nonchalantly as he could.

Sirius screamed at Remus’s sudden appearance. James, who’d been the one accompanying him, started violently.

“There’s an explanation for this.” Remus said, as calmly as he could manage.

James gave Remus a look: _ I’ve got you. _And pushed Sirius forward into Remus’s open arms. Except Remus’s arms weren’t open at all and the result was a harsh collision that sent Remus off balance. 

James ran off, laughing maniacally. Remus stared at his receding back, wondering what the fuck kind of person he was that he kept attracting such oddballs as friends. 

“What.” Sirius said, in Remus’s arms—which eventually had opened to prevent them both from toppling over in a tangle of limbs.

Remus flushed against his will—which was an increasing occurrence nowadays, despite all his added embarrassing experiences. He let go awkwardly.

And then he heard the sound of approaching laughter, and before he could think, he tugged Sirius forward into the storage room and shut the door behind him.

Sirius stared at Remus, his breath hard from sudden adrenaline. Remus opened his mouth to explain, realised that he didn’t really have an adequate explanation, and instead, offered: “There’s an explanation for this.”

The approaching laughter was getting louder.

Remus pointed his wand at the door. _ “Colloportus. Muffliato.” _

He then realised how creepy that must have looked without context.

He looked back at Sirius. “Listen. There’s an explanation for this, I swear.”

Sirius just kept staring at him in silence, his breathing uneven.

Remus felt a bit guilty. In hindsight, this entire idea had been an incredibly stupid one. He should have just asked Sirius to meet him somewhere rather than ambushing him like this. The problem had arisen because doing so would have involved having to speak to him, and that had proven increasingly impossible as the time for action had drawn closer. 

So, Remus had taken the easier, stupider way out. And now here he was. Sowing the moronic fruits that he had reaped. 

“Let’s take a moment to calm down.” said Remus, lamely.

Sirius nodded faintly.

Remus nodded back. He sat on the floor. With uncharacteristically rigid movements, Sirius sat next to him. They stared at the wall opposite them, avoiding eye contact.

“So.” said Remus. “Good birthday?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius nodded.

Remus smiled, “Better than last year?”

Last year they had bought Sirius a huge cushion. After a series of weight-altering charms, they’d _ Wingardium Leviosa-_d him around the entire day, wearing a cheap, plastic Muggle crown atop his head. Rumours of him being a member of some obscure royal family still existed to this day.

“Better than last year.” Sirius confirmed, smiling at the memory.

Some of the tension had left his body. Remus felt himself relax to this observation.

“Well, the credit goes to James.” admitted Remus, “He came up with the entire idea.”

“That’s kind of weird.” Sirius laughed.

“I know.” Remus agreed, “But apparently it’s part of a whole Magical Indian Ritual thing.”

“What’s the ritual for?” Sirius asked, and then smirked a little, “Foreplay?”

Remus felt the back of his neck heat. “No, uh, it’s meant to be, well, it’s meant to be some sort of blessing. For good fortune.” Remus explained. “Kissing wasn’t romantic in Ancient Magical India,” he added, for no good reason. “Well, according to James.”

Sirius nodded slowly, scanning Remus’s face. “You don’t believe him?”

Remus made a face. “It sounds like bullshit. But it’s so fucking weird that I couldn’t think of a valid reason for him bullshitting any of this.”

“So, belief by compulsion?”

“Belief by compulsion.” Remus confirmed, sighing. “Though I suppose this could be one of his meaningless malignities.”

“Like that Iago-bloke from that Muggle play.”

Remus felt a throb of pride, “In some interpretations, yeah.”

Sirius stared at the opposite wall grimly. He began, in a nasally voice, _ “Oh, beware, my lord, of my plans to fuck you over.” _

Remus snorted, “No, no, Iago’s whole selling point is his intelligence, he would never admit to anything so brazenly.”

_ “Oh, beware, my lord, of my suppressed and twisted homoerotic desire for you?” _

Remus burst out laughing, he returned in a deep voice, _ “Oh fair Iago, if only I’d known.” _

_ “You know now, lets fuck the patriarchy and run away together.” _Sirius waggled his eyebrows and held out a hand for Remus to hold.

Remus grinned, taking it, “What happened to the whole twisted and suppressed part of the homoerotic desire?”

_ “For you, my lord, I untwisted it.” _

“That’s convenient.” Remus said, _ “What of my darling Desdemona?” _

Sirius wrinkled his nose, _ “She can have my wife, my lord.” _

“Emilia,” Remus smiled in glee, “My favourite.”

_ “I thought I was your favourite, my lord.” _

Remus laughed, grasping Sirius’s hand tighter. _“You are, my love, but not my favourite. For I love you, but you did try to completely ruin everything precious to me.” _

Remus stared at the wall, waiting for Sirius’s reply. After a considerable silence, he turned his face to the side.

_“Iago?”_

Sirius started, “Ah, yeah, uh—_Yes! I am okay with that! Come, take my hand, and together we shall elope, just like you and that bitc— oh, do pardon my French—you and the lady did.” _

Remus smiled, and leaned against Sirius’s shoulder. _ “So be it.” _

Sirius repeated, softly, “So be it.” Then, in a harsher, nasally voice, _ “Fuck the patriarchy while we’re at it!” _

Remus threw his head back laughing, “What is up with you and the patriarchy?”

Sirius sniffed. “Fuck it.”

So Remus nodded. “Fuck it, we shall.”

“That sounds kind of dirty.”

“Well, you were the one who started it.”

“But you made it dirty.”

“You interpreted it dirty.”

“Mmmm. Yeah, okay. I submit to your flawless logic.”

“Success!” Remus exclaimed, in mock pride.

Sirius laughed, helplessly. Remus smiled, feeling the vibrations from his body. 

A moment passed in companionable silence. 

““So,”” they started, at the same time.

“You first,” Remus insisted.

“Cheers,” Sirius said, “Uh, so, am I here for the blessing?”

Remus felt deep, inexorable regret that he had insisted for Sirius to go first. But he was honour-bound, and the task wasn’t going to go away the longer he ignored it.

He swallowed, “Yeah.”

Remus felt a second wave of deep, inexorable regret that he had decided to do this away from the public eye. Everything was too intimate. It was too—much. And that made it more difficult. There was no way this was going to be just casual for Remus.

Remus realised, faintly, that he had fucked up.

He tried to reverse his fuck up by adding, with a poor impression of cheer, “Well, let’s get the platonic blessing over with.”

Sirius nodded. His movements were jerky again. Maybe he felt just as nervous as Remus did about all of this. _ I mean, it’s always awkward doing something like this with a friend, isn’t it? _

The knowledge of Sirius’s fear, for reasons unknown to man, seemed to make everything all the more awkward.

Remus could feel a weird tension in the air. He ignored it as best he could. Although his best wasn’t very good, currently.

He reminded himself that it was a blessing. And Sirius deserved a blessing. He deserved all the blessings in the world.

Remus said, “I hope this blessing exists,” he took a breath before continuing, “because you are more good and kind than you realise, and you deserve all the love in existence.” He repeated, because Sirius needed to hear, “You deserve all the love in existence, and more. Much more than that, Sirius.” Remus hesitated on his _ I love you. _It seemed awful to say, somehow. “We love you.” he said, instead.

He turned his body to face Sirius, ignoring the crackling atmosphere, and his pounding heart. He realised, imperceptibly, that Sirius and him were still holding hands—had been holding hands this entire time. And that intimacy, combined with his thoughts—_I__t wasn’t like this last time._ _I couldn’t think last time. _

_ I couldn’t see him this clearly. His closeness, his breath. _

Remus thought he would explode. He brought his free hand up towards Sirius’s face, stroking his jaw with his thumb and then instantly regretting his action when a blush arose on Sirius’s cheeks.

Remus was making everything a thousand times worse. Every action he took to make things casual seemed to have the opposite effect. But he couldn’t stop. It didn’t seem right, not when Sirius was this close to him. Not when he looked like this, almost scared. Perhaps as insecure as Remus. And so incredibly precious that Remus wanted to hold him in his arms and whisper a lullaby in his ear. Let him fall asleep in his embrace, and protect him from the world. Protect him from his own mind, where his demons lived. Where everyone’s demons lived, privy to the most vulnerable chinks in the strongest armour.

Remus moved his head forward, trying to find a speed that could pass as casual. Not too fast, or Sirius would be able to tell he was nervous enough to piss himself. But not too slow either, for fear that his own heart would burn him alive. The flames would eat his muscles and tear through his flesh. Until only his bones remained, burning like dying embers. And then, maybe centuries later, all that’d be left would be ash.

Ash, where once stood a boy, terrified by the intensity of those peculiar sensations in his chest. The ones that he had never felt before. The ones that felt inevitable.

Gravity pulled him closer, and yet Remus slowed. The reason was beyond him. Maybe it was burgeoning fear. Or perhaps some part of him was savouring the experience—the faint quiver to Sirius’s lip, the fluttering of his lowered lashes, and the heavy silence of it all.

Remus parted his lips and pulled Sirius’s face—gently, always gently—towards him. The centimetres between them disappeared, and feeling an odd desire to suddenly burst into tears, Remus covered Sirius’s bottom lip with his own. Ever so softly, as if they were both made of glass, he kissed him.

And if any thoughts of the blessing, or magic, had remained in Remus’s mind, they evaporated completely. Because in the vacuum that surrounded them, Sirius had gasped, inaudibly, imperceptibly, as if he couldn’t quite help it. As if neither of them could quite help it. As if they were both so scared of breaking whatever they had stumbled upon that they could only touch each other with the lightest of touches. The faintest press of lips, an accidental taste. And then another, not accidental this time, but just as hesitant, just as gentle.

And perhaps he really had turned to glass, because the beating of his heart was hurting him. Cracks seemed to form in his chest, his skin felt ready to melt. And yet it was the lips against his own that were bruised. 

Remus wanted to kiss the bruises, softly, lightly, until they disappeared. Until all that remained was well and whole, and not the least bit hurt. Because even a scratch on him felt like a half-dozen gunshots.

But that didn’t make sense at all. None of it made any sense. But maybe sense wasn’t all that it was made out to be.

For something utterly nonsensical, for something so very painful and alarming, this was absolutely lovely. Remus kissed him again, slower this time. An edge of awful surrounding the finality of it, the approaching end.

They kissed like they were the only ones in the world. But desperation was too rough, so there was no desperation. Only an awful, painful finality. Like a war lost before any battles could be fought. And too much fear to oppose this unwritten rule. For fear that glass skin and glass bones would shatter to reveal a flawed heart. So flawed that it was ugly, and uglier for its pain.

The kiss ended mere seconds after it had begun. Or maybe it had lasted lifetimes. It was difficult to tell. And impossible to understand.

Too terrifying to fathom. 

“Thank you for the blessing.” Sirius said, breaking the silence, his voice a touch hoarse.

“No problem,” Remus returned, hearing an edge of fear in his tone.

“I should go.” Sirius made his way off the floor. “I have to meet Minnie.”

Mundanity had pervaded the moment. It was now lost forever, never to return, for there was only fear to welcome it.

“Detention?” asked Remus, still on the floor, no life in his legs.

Sirius grinned. And if he could grin, after all of what happened, then Remus had been right after all. 

Sirius was indifferent. Immune to all that had happened—whatever it was that Remus had conjured in his mind. Whatever it was that would never leave him alone now. Some strange merging of friendship and lust. The cause of all destruction.

“That’s what she said, but she really just wants to meet me,”

Remus could find within himself the rationality to smile now, as well, “Yes, of course.”

“Was that sarcasm, Lupin?”

“Sarcasm?” Remus asked, “What’s that?” 

The conversation hurt.

“Your middle name, don’t you know?”

Remus forced a grin, “And here I’d spent my life believing my middle name was John.”

Sirius shook his head, pointing an _ Alohomora _ at the door. “Your entire life has been a lie.”

Remus swallowed a wince. “What time are you back?”

Sirius shrugged, moving to open the door, “Dunno. Depends on her, I guess.”

“James’ll be there too?”

The door was open now, he was halfway out. “Yeah, it’s our weekly rendezvous.” 

Remus was still on the floor, staring at Sirius as he left. “Right, well, have fun.”

“Don’t I always?” Sirius grinned, over his shoulder.

“Do you?” Remus asked the empty space, the closed door.

He wasn’t sure how long it was before he managed to stand up.

* * *

Sirius forced himself to walk normally for a few dozen metres. Then, believing himself safe from super-human senses, he ran as fast as he could down the dimly lit corridor.

_ What the fuck was _ ** _that. _ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line from Othello that Sirius alludes to is:
> 
> [Act 3, Scene 3; Iago to Othello]: 'O beware, my lord, of jealousy!/It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock/The meat it feeds on.'
> 
> (For context, Iago manipulates Othello into being overcome by his own senseless jealousy. This line is therefore extremely ironic and serves as a example of Iago's ingenious manipulation of Othello.)
> 
> Woaw, Shakespeare. Anyways, I feel like the living dead. Good Night. Or rather, Good Morning.


	17. The Unspoken Agreement To Ignore It All.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay!
> 
> Here are some relevant definitions:  
Maharaja: Hindi for 'Great Ruler'
> 
> I went through all the prior chapters and edited them to remove any grammatical/vocabulary errors. Reading through the start of this fic really made me realise that I really had no idea what I was doing. Not that I know what I'm doing now either LOL.
> 
> Note: To avoid confusion—I've recently found out that you're not actually meant to put spaces around the em-dash (—), so that's what I'm going to adopt from here onwards. I've edited the old chapters to reflect this.

“What is _ wrong _with you.” James demanded. He then added, as an after-thought, “Barring the obvious.”

Sirius stared up at him balefully from the grass. 

James, incredibly frustrated, threw a stick at his face.

_ Animal abuse, _thought Sirius, exuding a heavy air of mourning. He bared his teeth at James and turned back towards the lake, in order to continue gazing into the distance in melancholy. 

_ “Snuffles.” _ hissed James. “Don’t make me castrate you.”

Sirius ignored him.

_ “Sirius.” _

Sirius whined and covered his eyes with his front paws. Everything was horrible today. Everything had been horrible since last week, when _The Incident_ had occurred.

Something had changed. And Sirius wasn’t okay with it.

James threw another stick at him.

“Don’t be rude to Snuffles!” called some kind first year.

“Don’t be a nosy git!” James called back. “Also, Snuffles is being a brat!”

Sirius couldn’t stop thinking about it—_The Incident_, along with its strange repercussions; its collateral damage a calamity within itself. But it didn’t matter. Of course it didn’t matter. This calamity had occurred inside him, and all the damage was contained within. _ The problem, _ Sirius thought, _ is that my body wasn’t strong enough to wither the disaster. Too much damage has occurred, my heart bleeds. _

“Sirius, will you stop _ moping.” _ James pleaded. _ “Please.” _

_ I hate you, James. _thought Sirius, venomously.

“Why are you being like this?!” James snapped. “What’s the fucking problem? You’ve never proper sulked for an entire week before.” He splashed Sirius with some cold lake water. Sirius shook his fur all over James’s clothes. “Is it your parents? Is it Walby? Or maybe you fought with Reg? Or—Sirius, for fuck’s sake, just tell me what the fuck’s wrong so that I can do something and you can stop being such a fucking wet blanket.” 

Sirius rolled over to face away from James. Nothing James could do would help. James was useless.

James sighed in exasperation. He began muttering to himself, “Not Walby—she’s not important enough. Is it Oreo? No, Oreo is stupid, it’s not Oreo. There’s no way it’s Oreo. Reg got him a guitar, it can’t be Reg.” James groaned. “What _ is _ it. What the fuck could it possibly b— _ Remus. _Sirius,” James said, frantically, shaking Sirius’s body. “Did something happen with Remus?”

Sirius tried very hard not to react.

“Remus isn’t mad at him.” James continued muttering, “Nothing’s happened with Aubrey recently. How have they—wait. He’s avoiding him. _ He’s avoiding him!” _James exclaimed. And then, “Wait, fuck, he’s avoiding all of us. Shit. Sirius!” James demanded, “Why the fuck are you avoiding us all?!”

James ran a hand through his hair and lay on his back. He continued, “Has anything—? There was lunch—Remus sat next to Peter. That’s stupid though, it’s not worth an entire _ week _ of sulking. There’s no way.” James eyed Sirius suspiciously, supporting himself up on one arm. “It can’t be, Sirius. It just—no, I don’t accept that as a reason. It’s way too lame. It just— _ Sirius. _Tell me you’re not sulking because Remus sat next to Peter instead of you.”

Sirius snarled at James.

“Okay, thank fuck, okay.” James sighed a breath of relief, “Okay, it’s not lunch. It’s definitely not Aubrey. Maybe it’s not Remus, at all?” James pondered in silence for a while. “No, no, it’s been way too awkward for it to not be Remus, at all. It has to be Remus. Sirius,” James called, “At least confirm if it’s Remus.”

Sirius made no move of confirmation. He did his very best to stay absolutely still.

“So it _ is _Remus.”

Sirius hated everything.

“Merlin fucking fuck, Sirius, what _ happened _ between you two? What could possibly have happened for you to just—” James broke off with a loud, dramatic gasp. _ “The blessing.” _

Sirius shot upwards and began running away as fast as he could. James sprinted after him.

“SIRI— _ SNUFFLES! _ OI! _ INCARCEROUS!” _

* * *

“I hope you understand that here in Hogwarts we take animal cruelty to be a very serious offence, Mr Potter.” Flitwick eyed James sternly.

“Of course, Professor Flitwick,” James nodded back, “I completely agree.”

Flitwick eyed him some more. “I think we best visit Minerva in her office with this incident.”

“There’s no need, Professor,” James insisted, “Look—Snuffles here and I are the very best of friends.” James made a move to pat Sirius on the head. Sirius bit his hand. “This is how we play.” James grit out. “Isn’t it Snuffles?” Sirius bit James’s hand harder. (But not too hard. James was still his Platonic Soulmate, after all.)

“I think Minerva deserves to know—”

“Professor Flitwick,” James interrupted, shaking Sirius’s mouth off. “I really shouldn’t be divulging private information like this, but you leave me no choice. Peter—my friend, Peter Pettigrew—had a very severe case of explosive constipation last night. Professor McGonagall’s been up all night looking after him. I really don’t think she’ll take to being bothered on a weekend very well. I’m saying this for your own sake, really.”

Flitwick contemplated this for a while. Then, he narrowed his eyes. “Why wasn’t Mr Pettigrew escorted to Madame Pomfrey?” He perused James suspiciously, “And I don’t quite believe that constipation can be explosive. Be forewarned that attempts to deceive a member of staff will not be taken lightly, Mr Potter.”

“I’d never think of it_ .” _James, the dirty liar, crossed his heart. “As for why he wasn’t taken to Pomfrey, well, Peter’s got a bit of a complex, you see. He’s suffered from explosive constipation from a young age. It’s a chronic condition, you know. It’s rather insensitive of you to doubt it’s existence.” James gave Flitwick a brief reprimanding look, “But I’ll let you off, just this once. I’m sure you didn’t mean it.”

Flitwick shifted uncomfortably, “No, of course not, I do apologise.”

“No worries, Professor,” James grinned, “Anyways, poor Pete is a tad—mmmm, shall we say—excruciatingly insecure about it? Yes, I think that’s rather fitting. Anyways, he didn’t want anyone to know, but it just got so—_explosive. _ D’you get what I’m saying, Professor?” Flitwick nodded haltingly, “It was so very difficult for Sirius, Remus and I to control the—_explosiveness. _ We had to ask for help, and so, well, we went to Mi—Professor McGonagall.” James sighed, “I think the rest is rather self-explanatory.”

“I see.” Flitwick frowned, “Still though, your behaviour towards—”

“Snuffles and I are the _ best _of friends.” James repeated, staring at Flitwick. “Truly. You can administer Veritaserum on me if you doubt my words—” 

“That’s quite all right, Mr Potter.” Flitwick sighed, defeated. “Oh, run along now, I suppose.”

Sirius began barking viciously as James picked him up and began retreating.

“Thank you for understanding, Professor Flitwick—don’t mind Snuffles, he’s a bit of a drama queen—bye, now!”

“Yes, yes, bye.” Flitwick waved him away.

“Bye!” James grinned, avoiding Sirius’s snapping jaws.

“Please leave faster, Mr Potter.” Flitwick sighed. He began muttering to himself, under his breath, _ “This _is why Minnie’s been taking so many energy-reviving potions...”

* * *

“Change.” James demanded, when they reached the secret passageway leading to the Gryffindor common room. When Sirius didn’t comply, James made a sound of deep, deep exasperation. “Sirius. _ Please. _If you’ve ever loved me, you will change right now—”

“Why are you so obsessed with me.” Sirius asked him, now in his human form.

“Because I care about you, you stupid git!” James took hold of Sirius’s shoulders and shook him violently.

“You’re sweet,” Sirius called, as he continued to be shaken violently.

After a short, violent while, James let go of Sirius. “What happened with Remus?” he asked, through clenched teeth.

Sirius held up a finger, “Give me a moment.” He felt a bit ill after all the shaking.

James complied for about a minute. And then, when Sirius made no move to talk, “Sirius, you have to tell me.”

Sirius remained silent.

“Fuck’s—_ okay, _fine. I’ll do the talking. You just—just confirm if what I’m saying is right, okay?” he huffed.

Sirius shrugged noncommittally. 

“It’s to do with the blessing.” James started. Sirius shrugged again. “He did kiss you, didn’t he? He must have, he was honour-bound. What—was the kiss bad?”

Sirius sat on the floor.

“So it wasn’t bad.” James frowned. “He—did he say something? No, it’s Remus, he wouldn’t have—Sirius, did _you _say something?”

“I didn’t say anything.” Sirius snapped. “Sit down, you’re giving me a headache.”

“What the fuck’s wrong then?” James scowled, sitting down opposite Sirius. “The kiss wasn’t bad, you didn’t say anything—was what he said to you before you kissed—”

“No.”

James threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “You can’t be serious, Sirius—oh fuck, look what you’ve done to me. Look.”

“It—” Sirius looked at the floor. “It was too much.”

“What?”

“The kiss.” Sirius muttered. “No, the blessing. Whatever.”

James eyed him incredulously. He repeated, “What?”

“The blessing.” grit Sirius, staring at the floor, “Was too much. Something’s changed.”

“How long did you kiss each other—”

“It wasn’t because it was too long!” Sirius flushed. “It was a normal length.” That was a lie. “It wasn’t a normal length. It was—Merlin, I don’t even know. It—”

“So what’s the _ problem, _Sirius. Why’ve you been all—”

“Because it was too much!”

“What does that _ mean?!” _

Sirius scowled at the ground. “I felt like I’d burst into flames.”

James blinked. And then he started laughing.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you!” Sirius glared at him.

“Sorry, sorry, you just sounded a bit—okay, sorry.” James cleared his throat. “So you liked the kiss.”

“No.” Sirius answered.

“That’s a _ blatant _ lie.”

“It’s the truth, James.” Sirius sighed. “It terrified me. I wish it had never happened.”

James stared at him for a while. “This is all because you’re being a coward?”

“Fuck _ off. _I’m not a coward. I—you don’t understand.”

“I think I do.”

“No, you don’t—”

“You’re not—”

“You _ don’t _ because you’ve never kissed Evans, okay?!” Sirius exploded. “It—it wasn’t the same as—it felt—James, you _ don’t _understand. You don’t.”

“Why—Evans,” James spluttered, blushing.

Sirius didn’t have the temper to deal with this right now. “Shut up. Just shut up.”

“I don’t—”

“I don’t fancy Remus, either.” Sirius glared back at him. “Thus the comparison. Okay?”

James groaned. _ “Sirius.” _

“Just stop.”

James asked him, after a short silence, “If you can’t tell _ me _ , who _ can _you tell?”

Sirius was a bit startled by the truth in his words. He bit his lip. If he couldn’t tell James, he couldn’t tell anyone, and although taking this to the grave sounded pretty fucking great, the weight of it all was getting a bit too much to bear alone. 

And so, “You can’t laugh, James. I can’t take it right now.”

“Okay.” James replied, sincerely.

Sirius took a deep breath and threw his mind back. “It was—I thought I’d cry. I thought I’d burst into tears. All the blessings had been so casual, I thought—I _ didn’t _ think, that’s the problem. That’s always the problem. I didn’t think, I just wanted, and then I got it and it—it was like _ finally. _ But it was too much, I didn’t realise it would—I didn’t know—or I _ did, _but I just ignored it and ignored it and I avoided it all and it grew so small in my mind that I almost convinced myself it was just because he’s—because of his dimples or whatever. But that—it’s not that, James.” Sirius hushed, horrified. “It’s not that. It’s not because of the way his eyes turn almost gold when they hit the light, or—or the hints of blond in the curls of his hair. It’s not because of his lips or his freckles or even that Merlin-fucking scar that cuts his left eyebrow.” Sirius took a stabilising breath. “It’s not because he’s—pretty. I thought it might have been, like it was for you, with Evans, at the start. But I—I’ve never been able to put a finger on it, exactly, and I can’t now, either, but it’s like—he—do you know what gravity is?” 

James shook his head.

“It’s a Muggle explanation for why things stay on the ground, or why everything falls naturally downwards, or even why planets orbit around each other, I think.” Sirius frowned, “It’s a force of nature—which means it’s an intrinsic characteristic of everything that has a mass. Basically, all objects that have a mass exert a force of attraction on each other.”

“That’s pretty fucking cool, mate.” James commented, awe in his voice, “The Muggles are awesome.”

“Aren’t they?” Sirius smiled a little.

“What causes it, then?”

“I don’t think they know, yet.” Sirius shrugged, “Though this bloke with crazy hair proposed this theory—what was it—ah, yeah, the theory of relativity, I think? Fuck knows what’s in it—some space-time continuum—Remus gave up trying to explain it to me. Honestly, I don’t think he properly understands it himse—”

“Wait, right, Remus—”

“Remus.” Sirius sighed. “Remus.” he repeated. “All objects with mass exert a gravitational force. It’s in their intrinsic nature to attract other bodies of mass, nobody knows _ why _ exactly.” Sirius’s voice got softer, as if he couldn’t bear to hear the words coming out of his own mouth, “I think it’s a bit like that for me, when it comes to him. It’s just—a force of attraction that’s always been, and always will be. There’s no—nobody knows _ why. _ I don’t know why. I don’t know how to stop it. All I know is that my— _ feelings,” _ the word barely a whisper, “they just, they keep growing and I—it’s scary James, I can’t—I don’t know _ how.” _Sirius made a miserable face at the floor.

James stayed silent for a while. “He didn’t feel the same about the kiss?”

Sirius felt a throb of pure despair. “I—I think he may have. There was—it would have been impossible to ignore the—whatever it was that happened.” 

“Then what’s the problem? If he felt it too, then—”

“Then _ what, _ James.” Sirius snapped. “Then we start dating and eventually he gets tired of my face, or I do something by accident or in anger, and we break up and I—ignoring whatever will be left of me—we’ll never be able to go back to what we are now. Our friendship will end.” Sirius took a deep breath, “That’s what happens when you—when you feel too much for someone and then you’re—and then things _ fuck up. _ Your relationship dies. It’s the end. I can’t lose him.”

James frowned. “But if you—”

“James. I’m fourteen. This—whatever—there’s no way it’s properly meaningful. Things like that don’t _ happen _to fourteen year olds. So I—I promised myself I’d ignore it. But then I didn’t think, I never think, and we kissed and now something’s changed.”

“What?”

“Something’s different, James.” Sirius shut his eyelids, feeling the slight pressure of building, anxious tears. “When I look at him, he—he looks back—and I, I can feel him looking at me sometimes. I—we—it can’t happen.” Sirius opened his eyes. “It can’t happen.”

“That,” James frowned. He took in a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “I think you’re thinking too much of it.”

“I’m not.” Sirius insisted. “It’s not the same with Evans—you’re not friends with her. If anything happens you wouldn’t risk—” Sirius broke off, frowning. He began, “James, I never had proper friends before Hogwarts. I had admirers and acquaintances but never—I never had what I have now. And I can’t lose what I have now. I can’t. I don’t know how I’d survive if I lost what I have now.” Sirius repeated, softly, “I can’t lose him, ever. I just need to ignore my—my—and with time, this—it will die and everything will be fine.” Sirius rubbed his forehead. “Or that _ had _ been the plan, but he’s—something’s changed, James. The air between us, it’s—different, somehow.” 

“Sirius.” said James, simply.

They remained in silence for a while.

“D’you think maybe it felt so intense because it was the first time you’ve kissed?”

“It wasn’t the first time.”

“See? That’s what I thought as—_ what.” _ James gasped, belatedly, “You— _ what— _when?”

“Within the first half-hour of him stepping into the dorm after he arrived.”

James stared at him. “His heat?”

Sirius nodded miserably in confirmation.

“May— maybe it was because it’s only the second time you’ve ever—”

“You know, James,” started Sirius, softly, “I don’t think that’s it. I think maybe it’ll always be like this, with him.”

James stared at him some more, “But you said that your feelings would die, eventually.” 

“Stop trying to find loopholes in my words. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit too fucking terrified to care right now.” 

James let out a long breath. Sirius tilted his head back against the wall. The freshly spoken words hung in the air between them. Eventually, they settled like bricks upon their skin.

“This is so heavy.” James said, “How’d you keep it all within you for so long?”

Sirius shrugged. “I ignored it, mostly.”

James laughed a little then, “Merlin.”

“Do you understand a bit, now?”

James sighed, “I don’t know.” And then, a little helplessly, “How can I—What do you need me to do.”

Sirius looked at him. A moment later, “Help me kill my feelings.”

James frowned. “This feels really stupid, Sirius.”

“Was that a ‘No’?” 

James sighed, again, “I—no, it was a ‘Yes’,” he then added, intently, “but it was a _ selective _ ‘Yes’.”

Sirius smiled in response, “Thanks James.”

“I still think you’re—Merlin, you used so many _ words— _I still think you might be thinking too much, though.”

Sirius shrugged. “That’s cause you don’t know what it’s like. Not really.”

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The strands stuck out every which way.

Sirius eyed him and his horrible hair fondly. “Help me cut my hair, then.” 

“You—what?”

“Help me cut my hair,” Sirius repeated, grinning. “Do what your little heart desires.”

“I,” James ran another hand through his hair, “Yeah, okay.”

* * *

_ “Sirius!” _ came a horrified shriek from downstairs. _ “What did you _ ** _do?!”_ **

Remus felt his heart skip a beat. He frowned in concentration as he doubled his focus on the book he’d been reading.

_ She felt it had been preordained. All of it—from the scandal, to the disaster, and then even the pity of the masses. In her very soul she felt that it may She felt it had been preordained. All of it—from the scandal, to the disaster, and then She felt that it had been preordained. All of it—She felt it had been preordained. All of She felt it had been— _

Remus groaned. He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t read. Or he could, but only that one fucking section, over and over and fucking over again. He just couldn’t focus. His mind wouldn’t leave him alone.

He wished he’d been born as someone a tad vacant—one of those people who could sit alone in a room with themselves and not have their brain suddenly running a marathon. Dissecting conversations again and again. Analysing expressions, reliving moments, catching on anything particularly embarrassing. Twisting everything and painting it with a sheath of insecurities.

_ The way he keeps avoiding my touch. The way it hurts me. Why does it hurt me? Funny how I keep questioning myself. I’m avoiding the answer. Because I know, of course I know, I knew the very second we… Why did I have to go and just… _

Remus shut his book. He lay back on his bed and pulled the duvet over his head.

He wondered when exactly it was that he’d gone and developed a fucking crush on Sirius Canis Black. Of all fucking people. Pulling a pillow over his head, he suppressed the urge to scream. 

This was not ideal.

_ What a fucking understatement. _

He was fucked. He could tell, of course he could tell. But worse? He thought perhaps Sirius could tell as well.

How bloody cliché. How—how bloody fucking shit. Shit. _ Shit. _

He’d just—gone and fucking done the _ worst _ possible— _ everyone _ had had a crush on Sirius at one point. Remus knew this because he was privy to pretty much all the gossip the girls spoke about. It was basically a right of passage to have had a crush on Sirius, according to them. But—but—Remus wasn’t a fucking girl. And he—Sirius was his friend. And Bertram had been cute. _ Wait, no, Bertram _ ** _is _ ** _ cute. Present tense, present tense. _

It was all a bit of a fucking mess. Remus felt terrible—that he’d gone and developed feelings in the first place, that he was making everything awkward for everyone. And more: that Sirius could tell, that Sirius was avoiding him and that Sirius would never like him back.

_Why would he?_ _How could he?_ Remus… Remus was an amalgamation of flaws. There wasn’t one thing about him that wasn’t just the slightest bit broken in some way. His scars, for one—destined to mar his skin for all eternity. But deeper than that, infinitely more important, his very being. His lycanthropy—always, always his inhumanity. The danger he posed. His supposed soullessness. And—he’d always wondered whether all the horrible rumours weren’t true. He’d never been easily roused. He’d never had any particular love for romanticism, for things that were meant to _mean _something to other people. He couldn’t cry in public. He just couldn’t. He was never really excited—like other people were excited. His emotions were all capped at a limit. And when he saw those sentiments flitting across other peoples’ faces he wondered whether he was missing something vital—something human. 

And there were moments, when all of them were together—all of the people that he thought of as friends—when he’d feel a sudden dissociation. A sudden reminder that he was fooling them all. A sudden reminder that they didn’t _ know _him, not really. And then, in the midst of company, an aching loneliness. And he’d wonder what the fuck was wrong with him. How he could be surrounded by so much happiness, so much undeserved privilege, and still feel miserable.

And now, with this—this crush. 

Of course Sirius wouldn’t like him back. Sirius, who burned the brightest of them all. How could someone that exuberant see anything in someone the very epitome of lacklustre. 

Someone who wasn’t sure whether he was worth loving.

Some days, Remus found it difficult to bring himself to face his own reflection. His face seemed to reflect a farce. And that’s what it felt like sometimes—like he was living a great big fucking lie. Fooling everyone. Posing as a human. _ A sheep in wolf’s clothing, _ James had said. But that wasn’t the least bit true. _ A monster trying to pass as human, _was more like it.

That’s how he lived—like he was playing a part. Like he was the only one who was, because he was the only one who had to. And his script, whatever he thought his audience would like best. 

None of it was reality. It was all merely verisimilitude.

He wasn’t ‘nice’. Nice people didn’t have to think twice and then thrice before doing a nice thing. It was all a farce. A semblance—how he believed a normal person would behave; what he believed the others would like. And that was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it? They didn’t like _ him. _They liked the persona he had made for them, for their affection.

And all this pretense, this verisimilitude, it was exhausting. It was terrifying.

_ How could I ever let him? _He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Sirius didn’t deserve that.

Not that it really mattered. Sirius didn’t like him back either way. He’d made that very clear when he’d begun avoiding them all after Remus and him had kissed on his birthday.

It made sense. Remus understood, truly. It was doubtlessly awkward to reject an admirer. And even more awkward when that admirer was a friend.

So Remus would do what he’d planned to do either way. He would ignore all of this. He would pretend none of it had happened. He would pretend he hadn’t noticed anything, pretend his heart didn’t jump every time Sirius was near. He would ignore the urge to reach out and just touch. He would avoid it all.

There was no need for all this fucking bullshit. He hadn’t asked for this fucking inconvenience—these feelings. They’d just appeared, suddenly, all by themselves. Or perhaps they’d just been realised. He’d taken a breath, and the thought had occurred to him, unbidden, startling, and it had caused within him an utter paradigm shift:

_ I like him. _

* * *

“What did you _ do.” _Marlene hissed.

Sirius grinned at her.

“You _ fucking _ idiot.” Marlene groaned. “You—you _ fucking _imbecile. I’m going to kill you. I’m going to get Remus to kill you.”

“I like it.” Evans interjected.

“You like it because he looks like a fucking _ egg _.” Marlene glared at Sirius.

“A fit egg, though?” Sirius asked, innocently.

“No, Sirius.” Marlene grit out. “Not a fit egg, at all. An idiot egg. An absolute idiot egg.”

“Ignore the haters, mate.” James rubbed Sirius’s bald head. “I think you look like a fit egg.”

“You are the light of my life, James Potter.” Sirius said, with all sincerity.

“You are the cause of all my stress, Sirius Black.” Marlene said, rubbing her eyes. “And also probably the source of all my nightmares from henceforth. What the fuck did you _ do to your hair.” _

“I cut it.”

_ “There’s nothing left!” _

Sirius shrugged. He grinned at Evans, who was trying to suppress a laugh.

“There was a bit of an incident,” explained James, on Sirius’s behalf.

Marlene crossed her arms and waited.

“There were scissors involved.” James shrugged.

“You cut his hair, didn’t you.” her eyes glinted dangerously.

“I—whaaaat—no, of course not,” James avoided eye-contact. “I just—was standing there with the scissors, and there was a bit of an incident—”

“James.” said Marlene. “Fear for your life. When news of Sirius’s hair leaves the Gryffindor common-room and it becomes public knowledge that you’re the cause of it—fear for your life.”

James glanced at Sirius anxiously.

“Don’t worry, Jamesie.” Sirius comforted. “I’ll protect you.”

“My hero.” he replied, sardonically.

Sirius blew him a kiss. “They won’t do anything to you, don’t worry. They like you.”

Marlene looked at Sirius darkly. “I’m going to make sure that Remus kills you.”

“Remus won’t kill me.” defended Sirius, a tad nervously, “He covets me as a friend.”

“You look like a fucking egg.”

“I,” started Sirius, “Hey Evans! Do I look like an egg?”

Evans nodded and then burst into laughter.

“It’s fine.” Sirius told Marlene, “The egginess will grow on me.”

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Marlene returned. “Go to Pomfrey—” 

“No can do, Marley,” Sirius grinned at her.

Marlene stared at him. She began, “Giselda will kill you first. The rest will follow. Remus will kill you last, probably, but he will kill you the worst.”

“That—that doesn’t make any sense,” Sirius was beginning to feel very scared.

Marlene stared at him some more. “You don’t deserve your face. You—no, you don’t deserve to be this good-looking if you’re going to go and shave all your hair off.”

“There was an incident!” James defended him.

“There was no incident!” Marlene snapped.

“I like it,” Evans laughed.

“You shut up!” Marlene glared at her.

“I never noticed how very—pffffttt—shiny your scalp is, Black,” Evans continued.

“It is, isn’t it,” Sirius stroked his head, “I think Basil will like it.”

“I think Basil will like it too,” James seconded.

Marlene stared at them all. “I’m calling Remus downstairs.”

Sirius’s heart did a very odd something. He resisted the urge to cover the sensation with his hands.

He began, “You’re overblowing the issue—”

Marlene turned back to glare at him viciously. Sirius shut up. Marlene continued on her way towards the staircase leading to the boys’ dorms.

“It’s kind of sexist, isn’t it?” Sirius muttered towards Marlene’s unhindered passage. “That there isn’t a protective charm on the boys’ dorms.”

“I’m sorry Black, I can’t take anything you’re saying seriously right now.” Evans eyed his bald head. “Pun intended. Isn’t it cold?”

Sirius sniffed. “A bit.”

“We can enlarge a sock or something for you to wear on your head,” James suggested.

Sirius grinned at him. “Let’s ask Marley for one of hers,”

“Ask her tomorrow. If you ask her today she’ll bite your head off.” Evans advised.

Sirius turned to James, “Oh, what about the knitted underwear your mum se—”

“Sirius.” James interrupted, sending him vicious messages of death with his eyes.

“Your mum sent you knitted underwear?” Evans asked James, amused.

James sent Sirius a dirty look. Sirius feigned ignorance.

“What happened to yours?” James hissed at him.

“I’m wearing it right now.” Sirius turned to explain to Evans: “Euphemia was worried that the unforgiving Scottish winter would be harsh on our little bums,” Sirius patted James’s butt affectionately. James pinched his arm.

“That’s adorable,” Evans laughed.

“Isn’t it?” Sirius pinched James’s butt. James swatted his arm away. “Your mum’s the best.”

James sniffed, looking away, “My mum _ is _ the best.”

Evans was looking at James with poorly concealed fondness in her gaze. James, completely oblivious, was looking at the floor—most probably cursing at Sirius in his mind. This was probably the longest either had gone without breaking into a fight. Sirius rubbed at his bald head as he observed it all. He felt a bit like a monk.

“I feel so much wiser without hair.” Sirius remarked. “Do I look wiser?” 

“The bald monkey makes a fool of himself when he believes his hairlessness has turned him into a human.” James replied, snottily.

“Is that a proverb?” Evans asked, surprised.

“Yes.” James replied.

Evans eyed him. “From where?”

“The Maharajah of Bindaas.” James answered, not missing a beat.

Absolute bullshit. _ Absolute _ bullshit. _ Bindaas _was hindi slang for the quality of being a carefree badass. Sirius grinned. 

“Really?” Evans asked, increasingly skeptical.

“Really.” James confirmed, grinning.

And that is the moment that their previously civil conversation degenerated into their usual nonsense argument. _ Ah well, _ thought Sirius—his newly acquired baldness making him feel as though he’d achieved enlightenment— _ It’s a new record. _

* * *

_ “Remus!” _came Marlene’s voice, a second before the bedroom door swung open. 

Remus was still, currently, hidden under both his pillow and duvet. It was a nice safe space, and he was loath to part with it. He wrinkled his nose as he heard his canopy draw open.

“What happened to you.” Marlene asked, her voice quieter and much closer in proximity.

“Existence.” Remus returned, in an uncharacteristic burst of honesty.

Her voice softened, “Are you okay.”

“Yeah,” he lied. “Just having a bit of a moment.”

Remus felt the bed shift as Marlene sat down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Remus lifted the duvet and looked at her from under his pillow. “I’d rather eat a hippogriff’s testicle.”

Marlene made herself comfortable by the headrest. “I’ve heard that they’re really nutritious.”

“Really?”

“Yeah—it’s all that magical potential hidden inside the sperm,”

“That,” Remus wrinkled his nose, “God, why would you give me that image.”

Marlene smirked at him. “It’s the same reason why some people seduce powerful wizards—it’s so that they can give them head and swallow their cum.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Powerful wizard cum is allegedly stronger than most elixirs.”

Remus stared at her, supporting himself up on his forearms. “Are you fucking me?”

“If I was fucking you, you’d know.” she pat his head, smiling.

Remus blushed, “Are you fucking _ with _me, I meant. Shit. See? This is exactly why I avoid everything.”

“This is exactly why you _ shouldn’t _ avoid everything. It’s so much fun when you’re around.” Marlene grinned and tousled Remus’s hair. “Anyways, I’m neither fucking you, nor fucking _ with _you.”

Remus eyed her. “Wizard cum, huh?”

“Not all wizard cum,” she shook her head, “Only the really powerful wizard cum.”

Remus looked at her in awe, “Why is it not more popular.”

Marlene shrugged. “It tastes like shit and no-one wants to give some wrinkly, near-dead thing a blowjob.”

Remus started laughing, “Oh my god.”

Her eyes began twinkling, “Imagine giving Dumbledore—”

“Stop!” Remus batted her with his pillow, “Stop ruining my virtue!”

“—d’you think his pubes are grey—”

_ “Arrghh!” _Remus squawked, laughing. “I can’t believe you’re allowed to come into my dorm and ruin my chastity like this when I have to go through that dodgy secret passageway just to pick up the pen that Lily forgot to return.” 

Marlene grinned, avoiding Remus’s pillow rather expertly, “You’ve got to love old Godric and his overzealous chivalry.”

Remus laughed, batting her lightly with his pillow once more. “What happened, then?”

Marlene’s smile abruptly turned into a scowl. “Sirius.”

Remus frowned, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “What’s wrong?”

“He—” Marlene pulled at the skin below her eyes, “He’s such a fucking _ idiot.” _

Remus got out of bed, “What the fuck did he do this time—”

* * *

“You insufferable wanker.” Evans spit.

James grinned back at her. “I’m exceptional, aren’t I?”

“Yes, actually.” Evans agreed.

“You _ can _see sense, Evans.” James nodded at her approvingly.

Evans smiled at him. “You’re so exceptional at being an insufferable wanker that I think you may truly be the most insufferable wanker of them all.”

“Ace, cheers Evans.”

“That was an insult.”

“Really?” James turned to Sirius. “Did that sound like an insult to you?”

“Please kill me.” Sirius returned. His enlightenment had been very harshly eclipsed during the dark period of their never-ending bickering.

“That means he doesn’t think it’s an insult—”

“Sirius.” came Remus’s voice. “What the fuck.”

Sirius’s eyes snapped towards the sound. Remus was staring at him in vague horror. Sirius suppressed his burgeoning embarrassment. 

“Wotcher.” he forced a grin.

Remus sent him an incredulous look.

“Exactly.” said Marlene. _ “Exactly. _Please, Remus, do the honours.”

“It’s not _ that _bad,” Sirius rolled his eyes.

“No,” returned Marlene, “It’s worse. You egg.”

Remus started laughing. He hadn’t laughed like that in front of Sirius for longer than a week. Since his birthday, actually—since that moment, that disaster. Sirius had almost forgotten the loveliness of the sight. His memory had failed to capture the intangible enchantment it carried—the golden quality that eluded all record, and could only be witnessed in person. Or perhaps it was more plausible to suggest that Remus grew lovelier with every passing moment. It seemed the best explanation for why Sirius was consistently caught unawares and thus entranced against his will. 

James elbowed him in a quick ruthless move that caught him harshly in the ribs. Sirius wheezed and then cleared his throat, sending James a look of gratitude in return.

“You wound me, Remus.” he called, winsomely.

“Please, Remus,” called Marlene, “Be extra vicious.”

“He doesn’t have it in him to be vicious,” Sirius stuck his tongue out at her, “Suck it.”

“Remus. Be vicious for me.” Marlene pleaded. “Be vicious for the love that we share.”

Sirius quelled the glare he felt building up. He forced another smile, “You wound me, Marley.”

Remus walked towards him, still laughing, “What the fuck, Sirius.”

“Marlene’s bullying me,” Sirius complained to him, “She keeps saying I look like an egg.”

Marlene made a noise of pure frustration. “You don’t deserve your face, you don’t deserve it—”

“To be fair,” interrupted James, “You _ do _look like an egg.”

“A fit egg, though?”

“A fit egg.” James confirmed.

Sirius turned to Remus. Just how he had faked his smiles, he faked his casualness, “A fit egg, right?”

Remus shook his head, laughing, “An idiot egg.”

_ “Ha!” _Marlene proclaimed, in victory.

This, this relationship right here. With Remus laughing and blithe. Close enough to touch, but not so close that Sirius’s breath was stolen from his very lips. This was good. This safe zone, this buffer. And routine made it easy, almost. Painful, yes, but easy. So easy, to stay like this, in this stable friendship—a relationship that never oscillated. Sturdy, able to wither time’s all-wearing wave, and most of all—safe, so very safe. What they had always known, together. What they were comfortable with. Yes, this was good.

“Not even the least bit fit?” Sirius pouted.

“No.” Remus smiled at him. 

Sirius ignored the throb of his heart. Cupid was a fucking clown.

“It’ll grow on him,” James defended.

“I like it.” Evans piped.

“You,” Sirius turned to her, touched, “Do you want to be my friend?”

“Fuck no.” 

“Too late, Lily,” Sirius beamed.

Lily made a face in an effort to hide her smile.

“You’re all crazy.” Marlene said. “Except for you, Remus.”

Remus huffed a breath of laughter, “I really don’t know why you all place so much faith in me. I like Sirius’s baldness as well.”

_ “No.” _ Marlene hushed. _ “Why.” _

“You can see his face better this way.” Remus shrugged.

_ He hasn’t realised what he’s just said, _ Sirius told himself. _ He didn’t mean it in the way I’m interpreting it. The way some part of me always wants to interpret it. _

“And anyways,” Remus continued, “It’s fucking hilarious.”

_ See? _ Sirius sighed a quiet breath of relief. _ This is good. He likes this, as well—the safety, the familiarity of it all. _

“You’ve betrayed me, Remus.”

“Aww, Marley, I could never,” he cajoled, “Look, if you squint your eyes and tilt your head to the side, he doesn’t look that bad.”

“He—what—okay, you know what. You know what. It’s fine. We can work around this.” Marlene sighed. “It’s fine. We’ll get you a nice hat or something, Sirius.” She squinted her eyes and tilted her head to the side. “You look a bit like a fit egg from this angle. It’s fine. It’ll all be fine. How long does hair take to grow out, again?”

_ “Relax, _Marlene.” Lily laughed.

The door to the common-room opened. Everyone flinched. They weren’t prepared for how other people would react to Sirius’s impromptu haircut.

Peter walked in with a handful of books. Everyone visibly deflated.

“You went to the _ library?” _James asked, incredulously.

Peter startled and turned towards the sound, “It’s because you—_ Sirius!” _

“Hi.”

“What.” Peter said, pale, “Are the rest of you seeing this.”

“Seeing what?” James asked.

“He—Sirius—he’s bald?”

James frowned at him, “What are you on about, mate. Look at all this hair.”

Sirius gave Peter a strange look, “You alright?”

“Please don’t.” Peter whispered.

James frowned at Peter some more.

“Remus.” Peter whispered. “Remus. Sirius’s hair.”

“It’s there, mate.” Remus answered.

Peter looked like he was about to faint. “I—I think I better make my way to Madame Pomfrey.”

“Yeah, best do.” James nodded.

Peter stared at Sirius. “None of you see Sirius as bald?”

Everyone shook their heads.

“Right.” Peter set his books down on the floor. “I’ll be off, then.” and he left the common-room.

There was a moment of unanimous silence for Peter’s gullibility.

“How is he going to survive in the real world.” Marlene asked.

Sirius and James burst out roaring. 

Remus laughed quietly and made his way after Peter.

* * *

“Peter, I swear, he’s genuinely bald. We were just fucking with you.”

Peter sniffed, “Really?”

“Yeah, mate.”

Peter tried for a good-humoured smile, “Okay.”

Remus felt a throb of guilt, “I’m sorry if I offended you, Pete,”

“No, it’s okay.”

Remus eyed him, “We didn’t mean to make fun of you, just to be clear.”

Peter shrugged.

“Oh Peter, we wouldn’t do that.” Remus said, “It was all meant in good-humour. Look—Marlene’s spent the entire afternoon calling Sirius an egg.”

Peter shrugged again, “It’s not that. I’m just always the last one to ever find out about anything.”

Remus winced, “I promise you that it’s an unfortunate coincidence. No-one’s purposefully leaving you out.” Peter remained silent. Remus asked him, “Do you feel that way sometimes?”

Peter nodded.

“Oh, Peter. I’m sorry. That wasn’t our intention.”

“It just—it’s a bit horrible when you’re the fourth wheel. Or the sixth wheel.”

“You’re not any type of wheel,” Remus insisted. “Don’t think like that. I’m really sorry if I’ve ever made you feel that way.”

Peter sighed. “Alright.”

Remus eyed him. He was assailed, once again, by guilt. “Let’s talk over it—all of us—back in the dorm, alright?”

“No, it’s okay.” Peter shook his head.

“How about if I try and make more of an effort to actively include you?” Remus tried.

Peter hesitated, then spoke up, “I’d like that, Remus. Thank you.” 

“Oh thank god.” Remus sighed in relief. “That’s the first time you’ve been proper mad at me.”

Peter smiled, “I wasn’t mad at you. I was upset over the circumstances.”

“Either way, mate. I’m sweating buckets.”

“I feel kind of powerful having made you nervous.”

“Yeah, you should. Merlin, I’m exhausted.” Remus stretched. “What were you doing in the library, anyway?”

“Trying to find books on tracking charms.”

“Tracking charms? Oh, for the map you wanted to make?”

Peter nodded, “Sirius and you can’t go because you’ve both been banned, and James is afraid of reading, so I was the only one left.”

Remus looked at Peter for a while, “Was Mary there?”

Peter blushed. “Maybe.”

“Nice, Pete.” Remus said. “Well, lets make our way back so that we can read up about tracking charms, then,” he pulled at Peter’s arm and grinned. “Tell me about your library date,”

Peter smiled a little in remembrance, “There’s nothing much to tell, really.”

“Was there bookish flirting involved?”

“Maybe?”

“Mate.” Remus stared at him. _ “Mate—” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter really just threw my entire plan out of the window. This is why I can never plan things. Originally, I had planned for Remus to fall for Sirius around sixth year, maybe. But, well. And there's so much more ANGST than I originally planned. 
> 
> What even is happening.
> 
> But you know what—que será, será.  
¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	18. Oh, The Whims of The Rich And Powerful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay AGAIN! I've had an EXTREMELY hectic last month.
> 
> Here are some relevant definitions for this chapter:
> 
> Carrom: A table-top game of Indian origin.
> 
> Khyah: A fat and hairy mythical creature from Nepalese Folklore.

Euphemia Potter stepped out of the private floo in Minerva McGonagall’s office carrying with her the sparkling self-entitlement that so distinguished the rich and powerful.

“Mrs Potter.” sighed Minerva.

“Good morning, Minerva.” Euphemia returned, righting her robes with a bright smile.

“Mrs  _ Potter.” _ Minerva repeated, and in such a stern fashion that Euphemia felt an inexplicable urge to deny all culpability and plead that her mother wasn’t notified.

Euphemia smiled to herself. She hadn’t felt like a scolded school-girl in over four decades. Or, if she was being honest, since the last time she’d used Minerva McGonagall’s private floo. Cheerfully, she said, “You’re looking lovely today, Minerva.”

_ “Mrs Potter,” _ Minerva pursed her lips. “Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but I do believe that I’ve notified you on prior occasion that guests must use the Visitor’s floo network if they so require to floo into Hogwarts.” 

“Have you, now?”

“I do believe I have.” Minerva said. “Repeatedly.”

“Oh, I do apologise. Memory’s such a very fickle thing when you get to my age,”

Minerva sported a look which indicated that she hadn’t believed a word of Euphemia’s excuses. Euphemia smiled wider. She was quite fond of Minerva McGonagall. Only someone as sharp as her was capable of looking after Euphemia’s beloved, but nonetheless difficult, child.

“In that case, I must remind you again, Mrs Potter.” Minerva stood from her desk. “Guests are required to use the Visitor’s floo network if they so require to floo into Hogwarts. Utilising a member of staff’s private floo is not permitted.” Minerva sent Euphemia a pointed look. “And hacking into a private floo network is a criminal offence.”

“Ah,” Euphemia nodded, taking a seat, “But we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“I,” blinked Minerva, “I beg your pardon?”

“You and I,” Euphemia elucidated, “We’re friends. Are we not?”

Minerva sent Euphemia an incredulous look. “I don’t believe we meet each other enough to qualify as friends.”

“Friendly acquaintances, then,”

“Mrs Potter.”

“Euphemia, please. I’d so like to be friends with you.” Euphemia smiled.

“Euphemia.” Minerva acquiesced. “Utilising my private floo would be prohibited even if we were friends. And hacking into a private floo network is a crime, regardless.”

“Formalities.” Euphemia waved her hand placidly.

Minerva decided to take that moment to show off her startling lung capacity in the form of an inhumanely long sigh. After what turned out to be a rather impressive performance, she took her seat.

“You seem tired,” Euphemia remarked. After some short digging, she pulled out a clear, glass vial of luminescent green pills from her seemingly empty pockets. “I’ve bought you some rejuvenating herb pills.” 

“Thank you, Mrs—Euphemia. That was very kind of you.”

“Oh, no problem at all,” Euphemia insisted, handing the pills over. “Take it as a form of compensation—James is a handful. He gets it from his father.”

Minerva stared at Euphemia for a long, drawn-out moment. “If you don’t mind me asking, Euphemia, how  _ do _ you keep hacking into my private floo network?”

“I know a man.” Euphemia answered, truthfully. “Don’t worry, your security is top-notch. Ahmed is just invincible. He could take over the world, he could. Luckily for us, he’s set on running his goat farm.”

“You know a goat-farmer named Ahmed.” Minerva said. “Who you use exclusively in order to hack into my private floo network.”

“Oh, I use Ahmed for all sorts.”

Minerva sighed. “You do realise that none of this is legal, right?”

“Goodness, Minerva, Ahmed’s harmless,” Euphemia laughed. “He sings his goats to sleep every night.”

“Do forgive me for prying, but how exactly did you get such a meek goat-farmer to hack into high security floo networks for you.” 

“I won his unswerving loyalty at fifteen, when I beat him at a game of floating carrom.”

“I see.” Minerva said, looking very tired. “Does your husband also know an invincible goat-farmer.”

“No, no, Ahmed’s one of a kind. Although Fleamont  _ does _ have his own connections. He does business with the society of beast-men in the indian subcontinent, you see.”

“Ah.” said Minerva, looking even more tired than before. “Tea?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Euphemia smiled. “So, how are you?”

“I’m alright,” Minerva answered distractedly as she waved an enchanted tea-set over. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m just grand.”

“Why on earth are you here, Euphemia.”

“Oh, don’t you know? Today’s the last day of term, I’m here to pick up the boys—” Euphemia took a sip of tea,“—oh, lovely. Doekkabi tea really hits the spot—I sent you an owl regarding the details.”

A frown creased Minerva’s brow. “I haven’t gotten any letter of that sort,”

“Of course you haven’t,” Euphemia took another sip of her tea, “I sent it just before I floo-ed over. It should arrive in the next ten minutes.” 

Minerva sighed again.

“I trust that everything will be in order?” Euphemia continued.

Minerva stopped drinking her tea and pinched the bridge of her nose in silence.

* * *

Sev walked into the Slytherin common-room in a quiet, unassuming manner. The last lesson of the last day of term was over, and tomorrow most of the school would be bustling with barely contained excitement on the Hogwarts Express, eager to meet home again.

Sev himself would have been extremely disgruntled were he in their shoes. Thankfully, Hogwarts allowed students to stay in school for term breaks and Sev was therefore floating on a cloud of quiet gratitude.

‘Home,’ was a word filled with unease and a general plethora of negative emotions. To Sev, it was a place where any sort of pleasurable sentiment went to die. It was cold and lonely at best, and terrifyingly violent at worst. A place in constant conflict. With other people, who looked scornfully upon the residents—that broken couple, their ill-fitted child. With Sev, who, as soon as his father opened his first bottle of the evening, was necessitated by the fear for his own safety to blend as quietly as possible into the oppressive, unbreathable atmosphere. With itself, even—for the world was cruel to ugliness, and ‘home’ was the ugliest word Sev knew.

And so he was quite happy, actually. Even with the knowledge that he would spend Christmas alone in his room, even with the knowledge that he’d perhaps not say a single word the entire holiday—for everyone would leave, as they always did—because the alternative was a reality that Sev avoided at all costs. At least amongst magic he felt a sense of belonging. His arrival at home was always unwelcome.

Perhaps it was because his mind was occupied by thoughts of ‘home,’ and ugliness that Reg’s sudden appearance was all the more shocking. (All that… perfect. In that… everything.) Yes, Sev’s heart had only skipped a beat because he hadn’t expected someone to pop up out of nowhere.

“Severus.” Reg greeted.

“Reg,” Sev returned. Upon noticing the troublesome glint in Reg’s gaze, he continued, half-jokingly, “Was I bothering you by minding my own business?” 

“Yes, actually.” he answered, incomprehensibly. “You’re spending the holidays alone here, aren’t you?”

“Are you invasive by nature,” Sev scowled, abruptly bad-tempered, “Or do you find particular joy in irritating me.”

The corners of Reg’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Interacting with you is always a particular joy.”

“Yes, because I’m so very amicable.”

“Not amicable, per se, but oddly charming.”

_ What is he doing,  _ Sev thought in frustration.

“Right.” he felt his scowl deepen, “Fuck off, then, if you’re going to continue irritating me.”

Reg shrugged as he glanced into Sev’s eyes and smiled that little infuriating smile. The one that was almost cruel. The one that drove all the second-year fools mad. “So you’re not going home, then,”

“If you know, why do you ask.” Sev returned, irritated.

“For the pleasure of talking to you,” another half-cruel smile, another eye-crinkle.

“What are you  _ doing.”  _ Sev hissed, glancing around to make sure no-one had overheard. “What the fuck are you  _ doing.” _

“Engaging in conversation, Severus. Surely you’ve done it before.”

Sev eyed Reg. If he wasn’t crystal clear on his own nature—generally unlikeable—and Reg’s general being—‘something-something Slytherin Heartthrob’—he’d have thought unthinkable things. As it was, he felt such a strong throb of embarrassment for himself whenever his mind so much as ventured in that general direction, that the unthinkable things remained very much unthinkable. And very much untouched. Though even that wasn’t enough to stop Sev from being overly self-conscious.

“I haven’t, actually.” Sev replied, sarcastically. “And I don’t plan to in the foreseeable future, either.”

Reg raised an arched eyebrow, his eyes glinting, “So I’m your first and only?”

Sev had to look away to hide his flush. In order to balance his progressively unbalancing equilibrium, he asked, mockingly, “Are you even old enough to understand the joke that you just made?”

Reg’s smirk stiffened.

“Such things are  _ unbecoming, _ young Regulus.” Sev continued, tutting, because he knew it irritated Reg to be reminded that he was younger.

“You sound like my mother.” Reg made a face. “That aside,” he asked after some deliberation, smirking in a very disquieting way, “What unbecoming things are you referring to, exactly?”

_ What unbecoming things am I referring to, my arse.  _ Sev rolled his eyes.

“Well?” Reg continued, “What unbecoming things? And are they only unbecoming to say, or are they also unbecoming to do?” his smirk widened. “Why are these things so very unbecoming, Sev?”

“You’re being wilfully obtuse,” Sev spat, in order to cover his growing embarrassment. “I don’t have the energy to deal with you right now.”

“But the unbecoming things—”

Strangely discomfited by the entire conversation, and with a burgeoning desire to be anywhere that wasn’t here, it was all Sev could do to shoot Reg an unimpressed eyebrow and hurry around him, muttering, darkly, “Unbecoming things, your arse. Ask me for potions help ever again, I dare you.”

And Sev really was being unnecessarily self-conscious, because as he hurried to his dormitory, he swore the sound of Reg’s laughter carried with it notes of affection. 

* * *

“What does the owl say?” Remus asked James.

“My mum’s picking us up.”

Perhaps Remus had heard that wrong. “Your mum’s picking you up?”

“My mum’s picking  _ us  _ up. All four of us.” James shrugged helplessly. “Don’t ask, I don’t know.”

Peter's eyes widened, “She’s picking me up as well?”

“Yeah,”

“Before the Christmas Banquet?” Peter asked, sorrowfully.

“Before the Christmas Banquet, mate.”

“Wait,” said Remus, his mind trying hard to catch up to the current situation. It was with his mind spinning rapidly that he caught a glimpse of Sirius—his newly sprouting hair making his scalp look very much like a kiwi-fruit—as he nonchalantly lay on his bed and played with his Muggle guitar, while Basil, his wild, pet Niffler, nicked galleons out of his pocket and dove under his pillow. Remus wondered why the fuck he even tried to make sense of anything, anymore. The Will To Care inside him promptly died. “Actually, nevermind.”

“They’re going to have turkey at the Christmas Banquet,” Peter said in sorrow.

_ Oh, Peter.  _ Remus sighed in resignation. “They’re going to have chocolate pudding at the Christmas Banquet,”

“I’ll buy you chocolate pudding,” Sirius called, as he stroked the neck of his guitar and his head continued to resemble a kiwi-fruit.

“I love you.” Remus said, sincerely, his mind occupied with the promise of chocolate dessert. And then he processed what he’d just said and promptly wanted to die. “Mate.” he added, because the very meaning of his life was to cause himself endless embarrassment.

Sirius looked away awkwardly. Remus regretted existing very much, all the time.

“What about my turkey?” Peter pouted.

“Sirius will buy you turkey.” Remus promised, pushing through the unbearable awkward because the only alternative was to throw himself out the window.

“Wait—” Sirius started.

“They’re going to have eggnog as well,” Peter continued, sweetly oblivious.

“Sirius will buy you eggnog.” James promised, because he was awesome and Remus loved him.

“Promise away all my money, why don’t you.”

“It’s not  _ your  _ money.” said Remus, in a much greater mood now that the unbearable awkward seemed to have passed. “It’s Walburga and Orion’s money.”

Sirius pondered over this for a second and then grinned. “In that case, please continue promising away all their money. I’ll buy you a feast, Pete.”

Peter smiled in contentment. James laughed as he continued to throw things into his luggage chest. 

And Remus caught himself glancing a bit too fondly at Sirius and deliberately looked away.

* * *

Lily was on her way back from returning her library books when a “Sorry, excuse me,” halted her path. She turned questioningly to come face to face with a young Asian woman.

“You’re a Gryffindor, aren’t you?” the lady asked, in a weak Indian accent.

“Oh—uh—yes, I am.” Was this lady a newly appointed Professor? Lily discarded that train of thought. The end of the first term was too much of an odd time to start a teaching job. Maybe she was a recent alumnus?

“Oh, thank goodness. Do you mind pointing me towards the Gryffindor common-room? I’ve come to pick up my son and his friends.”

_ Son?  _ Lily looked up at the woman in surprise. She didn’t look old enough to have a son of Hogwarts age, although looks—Lily was well aware—could be very deceiving, particularly when magic was involved. Perhaps her son was a first-year.

“Of course,” Lily replied, turning to the corridor, “Just take two lefts from here and then whichever staircase deposits you on the floor below. Then, walk towards The Great Hall and take a—” Lily broke off when she noticed that she had lost the woman. “I can actually show you the way, if you’d like. I should be on my way back, anyway.”

“That’d be very helpful,” The woman smiled. Lily noted that she was really very pretty. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem at all,”

* * *

Euphemia danced a little victory dance in her mind when Lily Evans agreed to show her to the Gryffindor common-room. According to Ahmed’s intel, it was highly probable that James was in love with the girl. Euphemia was very rightfully scoping out the girl’s personality. That boy of hers was a bit of a fool, albeit an extremely lovable one. It was Euphemia’s job to ensure that he didn’t get himself entangled with some evil wench, all in the name of beauty.

Euphemia supposed this Lily Evans  _ was  _ pretty. She had nice hair, if anything. And her skin was very clear, as well. It was just her eyes. The way they caught the light made her seem like a street cat. There was too much of a kick in them. For a prospective daughter-in-law, she was too cunning. James was simple-minded, like his father. If he ever married Lily Evans, he’d be wrapped around her little finger for life—just like how Fleamont was wrapped around Euphemia’s.

Now, as a woman, Euphemia could appreciate Lily Evans. According to Ahmed’s intel, she was amongst the brightest in her year, and well-liked by her teachers and classmates alike. Polite, as well. If Euphemia remembered correctly, she was Muggle-born, which meant that she also had exceptional adapting capabilities and a presumably wide world-view.

In conclusion, Lily Evans was too perfect. Euphemia eyed her in suspicion.

The worst thing was, now that Euphemia had  _ met  _ her, the image of James mooning after her like some desperate fool was crystal clear in her mind. In fact, the image superimposed on the memory of Fleamont’s own rather reckless endeavours when he’d first started courting her. Despite Euphemia’s very best efforts to raise James to own even a modicum of self-respect, she had to admit that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. She felt compelled to recognise that her husband’s idiot-genes were dominant over her own.

Nevertheless, the acknowledgement of all of that didn’t mean that she would accept her precious son being treated as some pest, by any means. Euphemia and Fleamont’s relationship was inherently different—Euphemia was absolutely certain that she the best thing to have ever happened to Fleamont. James, on the other hand, was Euphemia’s only child. He deserved the best of the best and nothing even a nano-meter less.

And so, she had asked Ahmed for a favour. And like always, he had complied. But now, seeing Lily Evans first-hand, Euphemia wondered whether age was rusting Ahmed’s capabilities. He was already four-hundred and fifty-seven, after all—and nowhere amongst any of the intel he had gathered was the mention of how very suspicious the girl’s seeming flawlessness was.

Euphemia cleared her throat, “Thank you, again, for taking me to the common-room,”

“It’s no problem at all, really.” Lily Evans smiled in a manner that made it difficult for Euphemia to interpret whether her politeness was a show of her modesty, or a careful execution of kissassery.

Euphemia smiled back. “So sweet of you. What’s your name?”

“I’m Lily.” After a short silence she remembered to ask, “And you?”

Euphemia pondered over how to answer. She figured she would take advantage of her anonymity while she had it. “I’m Behzad,” she settled on the name she’d had, once upon a time, before she’d left her life in India in order to marry the insufferable British-Indian man who’d taken her heart. “It’s very nice to meet you, Lily.”

“Likewise.” Lily Evans returned, “You look very young, is your son a first-year?”

Euphemia had to remind herself that Lily Evans routinely insulted her son in public in order to prevent feeling too overjoyed by her compliment. “It must be all the potions I drink,” she said, instead. “I’m already fifty-nine.”

“Really?” the girl’s eyes widened. Euphemia wondered whether she’d won her son over in the same way—by being unintentionally charming. “I wouldn’t have ever guessed,”

“I have very competent brewers,” Euphemia admitted, feeling quite pleased despite herself, “And very high-quality ingredients, as well. I use melted himalayan snow as the water base.”

“That’s fascinating. I’m quite keen on Potions, myself.” the girl revealed. “I assume there are remnants of magical currents in the mountain rock beneath the snow?”

“That’s very knowledgeable of you.” Euphemia smiled, “Though the potency of the snow as a potion’s base actually comes from absorbed strands of fallen Khyah hair,” Euphemia waited for Lily Evans to ask her what exactly a ‘Khyah,’ was in order to regain her senses in a conversation which was leaving her feeling increasingly disarmed.

“I didn’t know Khyah hair was water-soluble,” Lily said, astonished, “I always assumed that magical extraction occurred under either a lipid or alcohol medium,”

Euphemia stared at her, confused over whether to feel pleased or disgraced. Her son had a long road ahead of him.

“The magical extraction occurs naturally,” Euphemia said, faintly. “Nepalese mages use Himalayan snow as an intermediary between the Khyah magic and their own.”

“Wow,” Lily Evans breathed and  _ damn it,  _ Euphemia was starting to like her. “I’ve always wondered. Thank you for telling me.”

“No worries, dear.” Euphemia sighed, acquiescing her defeat. “I’m involved in the cosmetic business, so I’m quite knowledgeable about magichemistry and its applications.”

“That sounds like such an interesting career,” Lily gushed, and Euphemia melted. How could she not?

“It is,” she smiled, “Let me tell you as much as I can on our way,”

* * *

“Should I owl my mum?” Remus asked James, after he’d grimaced through a test-tube of heat-repellent potion.

“My mum probably has, already,”

“Alright,” and Remus started packing his books.

“Why don’t you just leave your books here?” Peter asked.

“Why don’t you just leave your snacks here?” Sirius returned on Remus’s behalf.

“Um?” Peter said. “Because—they’ll spoil? I think?”

Remus and James laughed like the betraying betrayers they were.

“He got you there, mate.” James said.

“It’s the  _ principle  _ of the argument, you heathens.”

“And on what principles was it made?” Remus asked, smiling so softly that it hurt a little to look at.

And so Sirius didn’t look at it. He just awkwardly averted his eyes.

“Books are to you, what food is to Peter.” Sirius said, staring at Remus’s left ear. Which had  _ freckles on it, how had he never noticed before? _

“Yes, Remus would physically die if he didn’t read. How did you know?”

“You’re being a sarcastic arse, Jamesie.” Sirius strummed his guitar carefully. “If I ever write you a song, I’m going to title it ‘The Sarcastic Arse.”’

“That’s awfully original of you, Sirius,” James returned, not even bothering to face Sirius as he said it.

“Utterly ingenious.” Remus nodded in agreement. “How ever did you come up with the name?”

“By using the power of my,” Sirius took a deep breath and sang-screeched the last word,  _ “miiiind!” _

“Oh my god,” Peter whispered. “Is he going to sing again?”

“Sirius.” James called, over his shoulder, “Spare us all.”

_ “MIIIIND!”  _ Sirius repeated.

“For fuck’s sake,” Remus muttered, turning away, letting Sirius breathe again.

For under the gaze of those eyes—all that honey, gold, and amber—breath was wholly impossible.

* * *

“—and he’s awfully kind, as well.” Euphemia finished her verbal essay on why her son was the best person in all the world. She was a very strong believer in the old adage,  _ ‘If you can’t beat them, force them to join you.’ _

Lily Evans nodded politely. “That’s lovely.”

“Yes.” Euphemia agreed. “He takes after his father, mostly, in looks, but he gets his attractiveness from me.”

“Mmmm.”

“He has a girlfriend, currently, but they’ll break up soon enough.”

“I see,” Lily said, distractedly. She ground to a halt, “Oh, Euphemia, we’re here.”

_ “Are  _ we, now.” said Euphemia, staring at her. “My son can also speak seven languages and I have ingrained the respect of women into his very bones.”

“Euphemia…” Lily laughed a little nervously. “You’re not trying to set me up with him, are you?”

_ “Of-course  _ not!” Euphemia giggled. And then she stopped giggling and stared at Lily intensely. “Why? Do you want to be set up with him? Does he sound appealing to you? Because I would very much support your union.”

“Euphemia,” Lily bit her lip. “I’m flattered, truly.”

Euphemia beamed. “Of-course you are! My son’s an  _ angel—” _

_ “But,”  _ Lily interrupted, “I’m afraid I have someone I fancy, currently.”

_ Oh?  _ Euphemia thought, dangerously. Ahmed hadn’t mentioned this anywhere.

“Oh?” Euphemia asked, in a manner she hoped was bland. 

“Yeah…” Lily trailed off awkwardly. “Oh, let’s head inside— _ Panthera Leo,” _

Euphemia barely registered the portrait to the Gryffindor common-room swing open. She was too busy wondering how on earth she was going to get Lily to see her son’s charms under his foolishness. She would have to get Ahmed involved. Perhaps she would have to get Sanjeev involved as well. This was a very serious matter.

“Euphemia?” Lily asked.

Euphemia turned to her, “You have someone you fancy?”

“Uh, yes. I do.”

“Is he in your year?” Inter-year romances were more fragile than same-year romances. Perhaps James still stood a chance.

Lily nodded.

Euphemia stared at her. “Is he in Gryffindor?” The same could be said of inter-house romances.

Lily nodded.

This situation called for not only Ahmed and Sanjeev, but also Wasif. 

Euphemia quickly scanned through all the boys she recalled were in third-year Gryffindor, currently. She couldn’t see anyone capable of winning against her son…although, perhaps—

“Is it Sirius?” Euphemia asked, in a low voice. She was oddly alright with Sirius marrying Lily. She was extremely fond of the boy, and found he was almost like a second-son to her.

_ “Sirius?”  _ Lily repeated, incredulously. _ “Merlin, _ no. He’s an idiot.”

Lily was really rather rude to Euphemia’s two sons. All the same, Euphemia found she liked her. And she supposed there _was_, actually, some truth in her words. _They’re both young, healthy children, after all. I’d be concerned if they _weren’t _foolish._

“And he’s—yeah, no.” Lily shook her head. “Trust me, nobody stands a chance with him.”

“Don’t under-estimate yourself, Lily.” Euphemia said, sternly. “You are a beautiful, intelligent young woman.”

“Thank you, but it’s not because I think he’s out of my league,” Lily laughed. “He’s—it’s complicated. Uhhhh—he basically only has eyes for one person—as reluctant as he is to admit it. Nobody else stands a chance.”

_Ah, _Euphemia remembered, _Yes, Remus. _How could Euphemia have forgotten Remus? Euphemia simply adored Remus. He was such a very polite young boy. 

“If it’s not Sirius… Is it Remus?” Euphemia asked. She couldn’t bless Remus and Lily’s marriage on the solid grounds that she was too invested in Sirius and Remus’s marriage. She reminded herself to ask Ahmed, Sanjeev and Wasif to give her updates on the Sirius-Remus situation.

_ “Remus?”  _ Lily laughed, “No way! He’s my friend.”

_ Who else could it possibly be? _

“Is it Peter?” Euphemia wasn’t sure how she felt about Peter. That boy was very frightened of her. She wasn’t sure how much she enjoyed being frightening.

Lily eyed Euphemia, shrewdly. “How do you know all the— _ is James Potter your son.”  _ she gasped, horrified.

_ Ah, the game is up.  _ Euphemia beamed. “Yes!”

Lily blanched, and then began blushing furiously.

And as Euphemia observed her having a silent melt-down, it occurred to her that her son’s little love wasn’t as unrequited as Ahmed had made her believe.

* * *

Lily  _ knew  _ that Euphemia had looked familiar! It was in the eyes! They were the  _ exact  _ same shade of hazel as Potter’s insufferable little—Lily  _ knew she looked familiar! _

_ She knew it! _

She’d just— _ I rejected her offer of matchmaking, oh my god—wait, no, no, calm down Lily. You don’t—it’s okay. She doesn’t know. _

Euphemia smiled at her and raised her eyebrows knowingly.

_ Well,  _ ** _fuck. _ ** _ Fuck. I don’t even  _ like  _ liking him! I’ve barely admit it to myself— _

“Euphemia.” said Lily. “I think you may be misunderstanding something—”

“Oh no, don’t you worry about me.” Euphemia beamed.

Lily felt a bit like bursting into flames.

“I’d like to reiterate, Lily, that I support this union.” Euphemia nodded in a very self-important manner and began walking off, leaving Lily feeling extremely faint.

“Don’t you need to—inside?” she managed to ask, after Euphemia’s receding back.

“Oh no,” Euphemia laughed over her shoulder, “Parents aren’t allowed inside the common-room. Minerva will have my head.”

* * *

Euphemia knew the  _ perfect  _ seamstress for the wedding dress—

* * *

“You remembered your extra hats, right?” James asked Sirius.

“Yes, mum.” 

James kneed Sirius in the arse.

“Domestic  _ abuse,”  _ Sirius gasped. “Remus, Peter, mummy’s abusing me!”

Peter giggled.

“James, you can’t just hit Sirius every time he’s being irritating.” Remus said, sternly. “You can only hit him when he’s being  _ very  _ irritating. Or the hitting loses its potency.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” James laughed at Sirius’s look of utter betrayal.

“I want you all to know that _countless _people would die to be in the position you’re all in right now.” Sirius glared at them all. “But you all take advantage of my love for you and _take me for granted—”_

“Wait, you remembered your knitted underwear, right?” James recalled suddenly.

_ “Yes,  _ mum— _ countless people!—” _

“Sirius, put your hat on,” Remus said, in a rather futile move because he then promptly began putting on Sirius’s hat for him.

Sirius blushed furiously at the surprise attack and stared at the floor in a very blatant display of double-standards.

James caught his eye and sent him a look:  _ ‘Thanks mum,’? _

Sirius scowled at him:  _ Fuck you. _

James blew him a kiss and then almost went reeling to the ground when on his way out of the common-room, he ran into a running girl. A running girl who had gorgeous red hair and the most beautiful green eyes that he had ever seen because she was  _ Lily Evans. _

_ “Eeurgh!”  _ she squawked, adorably.

James caught her before she fell backwards. “Evans.”

Her head snapped upwards.  _ “Potter?!—Holy _ —your _ mum _ —what the fuck happened to your face.” she stepped backwards and stared incredulously at James’s newly acquired and progressively exacerbating black-eye.

Sirius, Remus and Peter promptly burst out laughing.

“Thank you all for your undying love and support.” James said, deadpan.

At least Remus had the common courtesy to pat him in an apologetic way as he continued to die of laughter.

“He broke up with Sakura,” Sirius revealed, clutching his stomach.

“And she  _ punched  _ him?” Evans asked, disbelieving. “Sakura?”

“He told her _ —mmmpghhh,”  _ Sirius broke off as James caught him in a headlock and covered his mouth with his hand.

“Circumstances occurred.” James supplied, in lieu of Sirius’s colourful retelling of the events.

“Circumstances.” Evans repeated. “That led to the most docile girl in the year punching you in the eye.”

“I have a particular ability to irritate people.” James said. “It’s a talent, I’ll admit.”

“Right.” said Evans as Remus and Sirius burst into a fresh bout of laughter.

“Euphemia’s going to kill you,” Peter worried.

“Nah,” returned James. “It was done in honour.”

And then, out of nowhere: “I met your mum.” Evans said, stiffly.

James’s head snapped towards her. She was holding herself awkwardly. What had his mum said to her?

“Oh?” James asked, freaking out.

“Yes.” Evans returned, and James was freaking out so much that it almost seemed like Evans was freaking out as well.

“What did she say?” Remus asked, on James’s behalf.

“Nothing.” Evans returned, her voice a bit too high for it to have been the truth. James cursed in his mind a thousand times.

“She didn’t—mention anything, did she?” James asked, nervously.

“Oh no,” Evans returned, equally nervous. “Remus I need to talk to you.” and then Evans dragged Remus to the side and James was left to freak out all alone, in the presence of his two very unhelpful friends. 

And also a saliva coated left-hand, because Sirius was currently licking the hand which covered his mouth.

“I didn’t wash my hands after I peed,” James told him. 

Sirius raised an eyebrow and continued to lick his hand.

“Sirius Black, you are absolutely disgusting.” James admired, as he let go of him.

“Hold the applause.” Sirius bowed.

And then the moment passed and James remembered Evans and began freaking out again.

“It’s  _ fine.”  _ Sirius said. “Trust Euphemia.”

James shot him a look.

“It’s  _ fine.”  _ Sirius amended, “Embarrassment is ephemeral.”

_ “Thanks,  _ Sirius. Where would I possibly be without you.”

“Lying naked in a pool of your own urine and blood, probably,”

And James loved the stupid git so much that despite the complete nonsensity of his consolation he found himself feeling oddly consoled.

* * *

“Uh huh.” Remus nodded, trying not to laugh.

_ “Don’t laugh.”  _ Lily whisper-shouted.

“Alright.” Remus agreed, swallowing his laughter.

_ “You’re laughing!” _

“It’s a bit hard not to,” Remus laughed.

“Remus.” pleaded Lily.  _ “Please.” _

Remus took a deep breath and donned a more serious expression. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

_ “Yes, _ Lily,” Remus assured. “I promise to make sure that Euphemia doesn’t say anything to James.”

Lily sighed a breath of relief.

“Though I’m not sure how successful I’ll be.” Remus added.

_ “Remus.”  _ Lily whisper-shrieked.

“I’ll be spending the holidays at home. I’m only around James and Euphemia for a while.”

“What am I going to  _ do?!” _

Remus felt a sudden burst of laughter travelling up his throat. He swallowed it down.

“Don’t you dare laugh, Remus.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Remus said, his lips twitching. “Look, I’ll do my best. Worse comes to worst I’ll ask Sirius to—”

“Do  _ not  _ tell Sirius.”

“I thought you were friends, now?” Remus asked.

“He’d sell my soul to the devil for James’s sake.”

Remus nodded. That was very true.

“So do  _ not  _ tell Sirius.” Lily commanded.

“Alright, alright.” Remus raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I’ll try my best.” When Lily’s eyes retained their crazy light, Remus’s voice softened a fraction, “It’ll be okay, Lils.”

Lily looked at him in despair and then hugged him tightly. “Thanks, Remus.”

Remus hugged her back and laughed softly into her hair. “Anytime, Lily.”

* * *

Peter glanced nervously at James and Sirius. They were being very silent. It was rather terrifying. 

And for the  _ life  _ of him, Peter couldn’t understand  _ why.  _ They’d been perfectly fine a moment ago. But then, all of a sudden, they’d both stopped talking.

Maybe they were—angry? Were they angry? Peter glanced at them, trying to discern what the hell they were feeling.

It was just  _ impossible  _ to understand. Their faces were completely blank! And for no reason at all! Peter squirmed in despair and wished very fervently for Remus to return. Remus would get them to stop being weird. Remus would also protect him. Remus was very nice.

_ Where is he?  _ Peter looked around desperately for Remus. He saw him in the corner of the corridor, hugging Lily. They looked quite nice together, actually. Peter looked at them for a while. The scene felt very peaceful.

“They look quite nice together,” Peter commented.

“They look horrible together.” James retorted, hotly.

“Are you  _ blind,  _ Peter.” Sirius glared at him. “They look disgusting together.”

“I—” Peter swallowed, nervously.  _ Why are they angry?  _ “I thought that maybe they looked—nice?”

“They  _ don’t.”  _ James growled.

“They don’t.” Sirius snapped. “Shut up.”

And so Peter shut up and stared desolately at Remus’s back, wishing more fervently than ever before that Remus would just return already and save Peter from James and Sirius.

* * *

_ Don’t mention the hug,  _ Sirius told himself, as he walked towards the courtyard,  _ Do not mention the hug. _

From the corner of his eye, Sirius observed as Remus dug through his bag.

_ Do not mention the hug. He’s not accountable to you. _

“I can’t do it,” James groaned in frustration. “Remus.”

“Yeah?” Remus asked, as he took out a grey cardigan from his bag.

“Why.” James asked, simply.

Remus took one look at James’s face and burst out laughing.

“Don’t laugh.” sulked James.

This in turn incited Sirius to start laughing. On cue, Peter started laughing, as well.

“James.” Remus began, eventually, after his laughing fit had calmed. “Don’t worry. It’ll never happen.”

“I—alright.” James sighed. “I believe you.”

Sirius, on the other hand, was harder to please. “Excuses.” he accused, as jokingly as he could.

Remus rolled his eyes, “Lily and I are friends.”

_ Right. Just like us.  _ Sirius shut up.

And then, because he was sick of feeling this way, he started singing,  _ “We all live in a yellow submarine—” _

_ “Why.”  _ groaned James. “You  _ fucker.” _

“Oh my god,” whispered Peter. “He’s doing it again.”

Remus sighed and threw his grey cardigan at Sirius’s face.

“Tough crowd.” Sirius muttered.

“Wear it.” Remus said. “It’s cold.”

And it was. Sirius wondered how Remus had known.

* * *

“Jamesie!” Euphemia cried when she saw James. “My baby!”

“Mum!” James returned, breaking into a run. He threw himself into her arms.

“Jamesie!” Euphemia hugged James as tightly as she could. She had missed her son unbearably, every day. She felt tears spring to her eyes as she hugged him tighter, and felt his bones as she did so, “You’ve grown thinner.”

James mumbled something into her shoulder. When had he grown taller than her?

“You don’t eat enough, do you?” Euphemia scolded, still hugging him, refusing to let go so early after months apart. “All you do is play that abhorrent game—what’s it—quid-ball or something.”

“It’s quidditch, mum.” James said, pulling away. “Quid’s Muggle currency—”

“Your  _ eye.”  _ Euphemia gasped, reaching out to touch his blooming bruise.

James winced. Euphemia narrowed her eyes. If he hadn’t healed it before he met her, that meant—

“Did you deserve it?” she asked.

“Yeah.” he returned, sheepishly.

She sighed, resisting the urge to cast as many healing charms on his face as possible. Honour was important to upkeep, and if James really did deserve his black-eye, he was obligated to suffer through the natural healing.

“My poor baby.” she bemoaned. “It’s not from quid-ball, is it?”

“Er, no. It’s from, uh, my girl-frien—well,  _ ex- _ girlfriend, now—”

_ Sakura Ito. _ According to Ahmed, she had a very gentle demeanor. Giving someone a black-eye was very out of character.  _ Poor girl, _ Euphemia thought. She had always felt that it was wrong of James to have dated her when Ahmed repeatedly reported that he  _ still  _ seemed to pine after Lily Evans. She’d given him the benefit of the doubt, but now, looking at his black-eye, she frowned at him.

“Did you make her cry?”

“Yeah.” James admitted, his voice small.

Euphemia touched his black-eye gingerly. “Oh, James. It’ll take days to heal.”

“I’m sorry, mum,”

“Did you apologise to her?”

“Yeah. Repeatedly. But she wouldn’t stop crying so I told her she could punch me if it’d make her feel better.”

“You foolish boy,” said Euphemia, with no real heat behind her words.

“In my defence, I didn’t think she’d actually do it. And it was rather—uh—disrespectful of me to have dated her in the first place, I think.”

“You’re not a punching bag, James, and you’re certainly not obligated to act as one whenever anyone is upset.” 

“I know, mum, but I—wasn’t fair to her. She’s a lovely person. If hitting me was any sort of consolation… well, I’m glad. It honestly didn’t even hurt that badly.”

Euphemia eyed him proudly. 

“My son’s the best boy in the entire world,” unable to hold it in any longer, she praised him as she littered his face with kisses.

“Stop it, mum,” James resisted, “I’m not a child.”

“You are my little baby.” Euphemia said, sternly. “And you always will be.”

“Yeah, you big baby.” came Sirius’s voice.

Euphemia let go of James. “Sirius, my boy!” and pulled Sirius closer.

The child stiffened slightly, as if, even after all this time, he hadn’t a clue how to react. He possessed that innate awkwardness so common in children who don’t receive enough affection at a young age. Euphemia felt a spark of red, hot anger towards his parents, and the entire British pure-blood society. In the face of what they called ‘tradition,’ they neglected their very children of love and affection—something as vital to them as food and drink. How they could find within themselves the cruelty to ignore the children they had raised, Euphemia hadn’t a clue. It completely boggled her mind. It was perhaps easier for her to believe that they were just born that way—deficient of human sentiment, inherently apathetic. 

It was certainly easier for her to believe that it was the fault of their very being, yes, but she found herself hesitant. For she was a mother first, and a critic second, and she recognised that a cruel adult was once a lonely child. She understood that they were all—Walburga, Orion, amongst the rest—just victims of their toxic society. No one person was at fault, per se. They were all simply victims of a culmination of toxic human thoughts. Remembering this, she found herself conflicted. She felt sorry for them, for she was sure that as much cruelty as they showed their children, they had received equally horrendous childhoods themselves. And in the process of carrying out what they believed was their duty, they were destroying their second chance to receive love—in that they were alienating their own children and forcing them to suffer just as they themselves had suffered—perhaps as a form of sick revenge, perhaps because they had been so wholly brainwashed. 

Euphemia felt ill with the reminder that these people had been ruining their own lives for centuries—she hugged Sirius tighter—and their childrens’ lives for just as long. 

When they broke apart, Sirius sent her a heartbreakingly shy smile. She felt another rush of anger towards his parents.  _ Fuck it all, fuck their sob-stories, I’m holding them accountable.  _ She hugged Sirius again.  _ I’ll hold them accountable for as long as I live. How could they, to their own child.  _ She hugged him even tighter.  _ Starving him for affection and love. Walburga, Orion, you bloody fucking bastards— _

“Mum,” said James. “You’re suffocating him.”

“Oh, goodness!” Euphemia let go of Sirius.

Sirius beamed at her after he had finished wheezing. Euphemia resisted the urge to hug him again. 

“How are you, darling?” she asked, tenderly.

“I’m good, Euphemi—”

_ “What did you do to your  _ ** _hair?!” _ ** she screamed at him, as soon as she noticed that under his woolen cap, he was very much bald. 

She tore the cap away and stared at his bald head. When Ahmed had told her that James had cut Sirius’s hair, she’d assumed that he’d given him a crew cut, or something of that sort. She glared at her son and pulled him towards her using his ear.

“What did you do to his_ hair!” _she yelled.

“Mum!” James winced. “Mum, there was a situation, I swear—”

“I asked him for it!” Sirius defended, anxiously.

“There was a situation!” James winced as Euphemia tightened her hold.

Euphemia turned to Remus and Peter. “What  _ happened?” _

Remus shrugged helplessly, “I’m not sure.”

“I—” Peter gulped. “I—”

_ “You.”  _ Euphemia yelled at James. “You’re grounded.”

“Euphemia!” clamored Sirius, “I asked him for it!”

“Then you’re grounded too!” Euphemia shouted.

“You can’t ground him!” James shouted back. “You’re not his—”

“You shut up!” Euphemia glared at him.

“Euphemia,” Remus tried, “It was all done in good humour, I think,”

“I don’t see much humour in this situation.” Euphemia glared at Sirius and James.

“None of the girls did, either.” Remus admitted, wincing.

“Except for Evans.” James grinned.

“You have guts to be grinning right now.” Euphemia said to him, dangerously.

“Mum, there was a  _ situation—”  _ he broke off into hindi,  _ “I’ll tell you about it when we get home.” _

Euphemia stared at him. She turned to Sirius. Sirius looked back at her and nodded. She eyed his head sadly and then noticed a faint shiver go down his body.

Sighing, she let go of James and put the woolen cap in her hand back onto Sirius’s head. “It must be cold.” she worried, patting his head and whipping out her wand to spell some warming charms on them all. “Your beautiful hair, Sirius.” she lamented. “What have you done.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal, mum.” James sighed. “It was a joke, basically—”

“Then you should have cut off your own hay-nest.” she snapped back.

“Maybe I will!”

Euphemia switched to hindi in her fury,  _ “Do it and I’ll disown you.” _

James sniffed. Sirius sent him a questioning look.

As the two foolish boys were engaging in their silent conversation, Remus moved closer to Euphemia and said, softly, “It’s grown quite fast. His head’s like a kiwi-fruit now. It was completely bald three weeks ago.”

“Oh, Remus.” Euphemia sighed, her anger dissipating rapidly. She reached towards him in order to pat  _ his  _ still very existent hair gently. “Thank you for consoling this old woman,”

Remus smiled.  “It’s the truth. It’ll grow back soon enough,” He lowered his tone to a whisper, “And I think it—I think he had his reasons.”

Euphemia patted his head fondly. Remus really was such a lovely child.

She glanced at Peter. He flinched when their eyes met. She sighed again.

And then she said, “We may as well be on our way, then.”

* * *

Reg was playing with his wand in his empty bedroom when the crack of apparition broke him out of his placid mood.

Kreacher bowed from the foot of his bed. “The lowly Kreacher bears a message for The Second Young Master Regulus,”

Reg raised an eyebrow, “From Mother?”

“The Mistress Walburga was concerned—”

“Concerned?” Reg asked, incredulously. It was almost funny.

Kreacher’s face remained as impassive as ever, “If this lowly Kreacher may be so presumptuous as to—”

“You may speak without restraint, Kreacher.”

“Young Master Regulus,” said Kreacher, “The Mistress Walburga wanted to ask why you weren’t coming back to Grimmauld Place for the holidays.”

Reg scoffed. “She need not worry. I will floo in for the winter cotillion.”

“She wanted to enquire—”

“Kreacher, speak without restraint.” Reg looked away, “Please.”

“She is worried, Young Master Regulus.”

“I won’t deface The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.” Reg droned. “That’s Sirius’s job.”

“As consoling as that is, Young Master Regulus, Kreacher believes that she misses you.”

_ Misses me?  _ Regulus laughed to himself. “I’ve noticed that your opinions are overly optimistic when it comes to me.”

“Kreacher believes that Young Master Regulus undermines himself,”

“Do I, Kreacher?” Reg asked him, oddly amused. “So she misses me.”

“The Mistress Walburga dislikes feeling alone in the big mansion.”

“Surely father won’t spend  _ all  _ his time with his paramours,”

Kreacher hesitated.

“Speak freely, Kreacher.”

“The Mistress Walburga misses her children.”

Reg laughed. He couldn’t help it. “You’ve grown a sense of humour.”

“Kreacher does not joke. Young Master Regulus must not take Kreacher’s words lightly. The Mistress Walburga has been particularly desolate these winter months.”

“Did father bring one of his paramours to the grounds, again?”

“Kreacher believes it may be due to The Young Master.”

“Sirius?” Reg asked. “Is she still upset over the Muggle posters?”

“The Mistress Walburga had those removed.”

_ Sirius is going to be  _ so _ angry,  _ Regulus prepared himself for another of their shouting arguments.

“Then?” he probed.

“Kreacher believes that The Mistress Walburga is taking The Young Master’s growing absences in an increasingly personal manner.”

“Children do as children see, Kreacher.” Reg felt a growing throb of irritation. “Mother has no right to feel hurt by Sirius’s absences. I don’t believe she was present for even a quarter of our childhood.”

“The Mistress Walburga was simply carrying out her duty.”

“Then it is her duty to suffer through the consequences of her actions.”

“Kreacher believes The Mistress Walburga is broken-hearted—”

“You can’t break what you don’t have.” Reg said, the ice around his heart turning him cruel. “Tell her that it goes against pure-blood custom to feel pain.”

“Master Regulus,” Kreacher castigated. “Kreacher understands that Master Regulus has undergone his own fair-share of heart-break, but the Young Masters Regulus and Sirius have always had each other for consolation. The Mistress Walburga is utterly alone—”

“She’s alone because she’s driven everyone away.” Reg snapped, his mood sour. “How many times did that idiot try to break the ice in her veins?”

“Young Master Sirius is overly sensitive. It simply wouldn’t have done to encourage his penchant for the emotional.”

“And me?” Reg asked, dangerously. “I tried, as well.”

Kreacher gazed at him in silence. “Young Master Regulus has always been better at following pure-blood etiquette than Young Master Sirius. Perhaps, Young Master Regulus has always been  _ too  _ good at it. The Mistress Walburga doesn’t understand that her actions hurt Master Regulus, as they do.”

“So?” Reg asked. “Is that meant to make me forgive her for everything? She didn’t realise it hurt me so that makes it okay? And what do you mean she didn’t realise that it hurt  _ me,  _ specifically. So she  _ does  _ know about Sirius.”

Kreacher said, quietly. “The Mistress Walburga is particularly cruel on purpose.”

“Don’t you see, Kreacher. That makes it worse.”

“Kreacher possesses neither the intellect nor the jurisdiction to form an opinion on this matter.”

“Yes, you do, Kreacher.” Reg remembered his childhood. He remembered the special kindness Kreacher had always shown him. “You may speak freely with me, always.”

Kreacher hesitated. “The Mistress Walburga is hot-tempered, and often says things that she comes to regret at a later date. It is a very complicated matter.”

“You know, Kreacher,” began Reg. “I used to think so too.”

“Young Master Regulus?”

“Leaving that house made me realise that it’s only ever complicated if you  _ make  _ it complicated. All it would take is her saying it with her own mouth. Sirius is such a bloody fool, all it would take is her writing a letter to him. But she doesn’t, she  _ chooses  _ not to, because to her, society and tradition will always come before her children. It doesn’t matter that she feels some sort of affection for us, secretly. We’re both done with waiting and hoping in vain to be loved. I’m done with being satisfied with ‘a little, secretly.’ Mother and father starved us for love for so long that ‘a little, secretly,’ will never be enough.”

Kreacher bowed his head in silence.

“I understand my duties, Kreacher,” Reg said, quietly. “I’ll floo in for the cotillion, and any of the surrounding events but nothing else.”

“And The Young Master Sirius?”

Reg laughed humorlessly. They remained in silence for a while.

Kreacher asked, “Have The Young Masters found something more than—‘a little, secretly’?”

Reg thought of Sev’s sour face. He found himself smiling at the memory, “I’ve found something that I’m willing to be more than ‘a little, secretly,’ for,”

“Kreacher understands.” Kreacher bowed. “He asks for The Young Master Regulus’s leave,”

“The Young Master Regulus gives Kreacher his leave,” Reg teased.

Kreacher smiled for the second before he apparated away.

“Merry Christmas, Kreacher,” Reg told his empty bedroom, his heart a little bruised.

* * *

“So I met Lily Evans today,” started Euphemia, as they were walking around the carnival grounds.

_ That’s my cue,  _ thought Remus as he very keenly attuned himself to the conversation.

“Why did you _ approach her.”  _ James moaned, completely devastated.  _ “Why are you trying to ruin my life.” _

“You wound me, James. Have some faith in your mother.”

James turned to her. “I know that you—” the word a whisper,  _ “—know.” _

“Oh, dear,” Euphemia winked at Remus. “I’ve been compromised.”

“You’ve got to stop using Ahmed to  _ stalk my friends!” _

Remus tried very hard to stay calm. Who the fuck was Ahmed and what the fucking fuck did he know about Remus’s life. 

“I wouldn’t have asked him to stalk her if I hadn’t seen all those doodles,  _ Mr James Evans—” _

_ “Mum!”  _ James shouted. “That—you read through my  _ diary?!” _

Out of his loyalty to James, Remus very nobly withheld the desire to burst out laughing.

“You doodled Mr James Evans in your  _ diary?”  _ Sirius laughed.

“Shut. _ Up,  _ Sirius.” James glared, whispering. “It—it was a moment of weakness.”

“You can hardly blame me.” Euphemia said, sharing an amused look with Sirius. “You’ve been walking around with your head in the clouds since first year.”

“That’s an invasion of  _ privacy, mum.” _

“I was simply worried, my boy.”

“You,” James spluttered, “You’re just  _ nosy!” _

“Well, that too.” Euphemia acquiesced. “Speaking of, I’d rather you keep the surname Potter, if it’s all the same.”

James glared at her as he took a bite out of his cotton-candy.

“Mrs Lily Potter sounds  _ far _ nicer than Mr James Evans. Don’t you all agree?” she asked the rest of them.

_ “I  _ personally believe that Jamesie would make the very loveliest trophy husband.”

“He can be a lovely trophy husband named Mr James Potter, surely.”

“I submit to your flawless logic, Euphemia.” Sirius and Euphemia high-fived.

James aggressively devoured his cotton-candy.

“What about you, Remus? Peter?” Euphemia asked.

“I—yes.” said Peter, looking oddly intimidated. 

“I think,” began Remus, trying to be as diplomatic as possible, “that any decision they make should they ever get married would be fine.” 

“That was very political of you, Remus.” Euphemia admired. “You’d do well in the corporate business—help calm down all those hot-headed imbeciles.”

“Everybody  _ shut-up.” _ James commanded, flushing dark red in embarrassment. “Just—no. Mum, you’re absolutely  _ forbidden  _ to  _ ever  _ speak to her  _ ever  _ again.”

Euphemia sent him a look. “That’ll make for some  _ very  _ awkward family dinners, let me tell you.”

Remus coughed to hide his laugh.

“Mum!” James whined.

“Awww, little Jamesie,” Euphemia cooed. 

“Awww, Jamesie-baby,” Sirius cooed.

James glared at them even harder. “She doesn’t even  _ like  _ me.” The words seemed to depress him somewhat.

Remus withheld a sigh. The entire James and Lily situation was the most ridiculous thing in the world. If they both could just stop being so… fucking  _ stupid. _

“Aha,” beamed Euphemia, opening her mouth to no doubt reveal—

“Oh, look!” Remus pointed to a flying carpet attraction.

James’s attention was successfully diverted. Sirius’s attention was unintentionally  _ also  _ diverted. They both developed a rather disconcerting gleam in their eyes.

“Go ahead, then,” Euphemia took their cotton-candies.

James began muttering his plans as he squinted at the pricing sign, “How many people—we’ll have to get the family sized—”

“Can we—without—?” Sirius asked.

“No, but it shouldn’t be a problem,” James grinned. “Read me the sign—”

Remus eyed them warily. Perhaps he had made a mistake.

* * *

“What are you doing?” Sirius frowned at Remus. “Come on, let’s go,”

“Yeah… about that…” Remus eyed the flying carpets with trepidation. Now that Sirius thought about it, Remus had never really appeared very comfortable with flying.

“Come  _ on.”  _ Sirius took a hold of his arm and pulled, “It’ll be fun, I swear,”

“Right.” Remus followed a whizzing carpet with his eyes.

Sirius pulled him to no avail. Remus was so uselessly strong. “Remus!”

“I promise you that if you force me to join you, I’m going to throw-up.”

“It’ll be  _ fun—” _

“It  _ really  _ won’t.” Remus stared at him. “Because you will be covered in my vomit.”

Sirius imagined that reality. “I’ll ask Euphemia to scourgify me. It’ll be fine.”

“Werewolves are resistant to magic.” Remus said.

“So?”

_ “So,  _ my dad’s never been able to properly scourgify my throw-up.” 

Sirius eyed him. Remus was maintaining eye-contact, he wasn’t lying. “I’ll take a shower at James’s house, then.”

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” Remus laughed, and Sirius really wanted to ask him to stop looking so helplessly  _ fond. _

“Yeah, I am.” Sirius pulled at his hand, “So, come  _ on,” _

“Sirius…” and Remus' s eyes were so soft that Sirius knew one more push would have him relenting.

“Mummy,” came a child’s voice, “Why are those boys holding hands?”

Both of them turned to the sound. A young, snot-faced child was pointing to them with her pudgy fingers. Sirius eyed the little interrupter.

_ “Shhh,  _ Lucia,” hushed her mother. She turned to Sirius and Remus, “I’m sorry about that, she’s lippy,”

“They’re still holding hands—” 

With that reminder, Sirius let go of Remus’s hand and stepped away slightly.

“Lucia!” the mother castigated. She turned apologetically back to Sirius and Remus, “I’m terribly sorry—I hope we haven’t ruined your day—_Lucia, _apologise.”

Lucia turned her sticky brat face up at Remus. “What happened to your face?”

Sirius was about to take an ominous step towards her when Remus tapped him gently on the shoulder.

_ “Lucia!”  _ cried the mother. “I’m so, so sorry about her,”

“Don’t worry about it,” Remus insisted. He knelt on the floor in front of Lucia and smiled gently. “I hurt my face when I was younger,”

“You hurted it?” Lucia asked, her eyes wide. She reached out to touch the scar across Remus’s nose. “Did you cry?”

“I think so. I don’t really remember, I was very young.” 

Sirius glanced at Remus, ready to intervene by kicking the brat away the second she made Remus uncomfortable.

“A baby?” Lucia-the-brat asked, patting Remus’s scars with her pudgy little hands. 

Sirius felt an uncomfortable throb of emotion. He’d never physically touched  _ any  _ of Remus’s facial scars.

“A baby.” Remus nodded, looking far too amused.

“Poor baby.” Lucia frowned, patting Remus’s curls so casually that Sirius really wanted to give her a tiny little push.

“Poor baby,” Remus agreed, laughing.

And then the tiny little demon moved her head forward and kissed Remus on the nose. 

And Sirius froze.

“I kissed it better.” the evil-satan-spawn said, proud of herself for having basically molested someone in broad daylight. “Does it feel better?”

Remus’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second and then soft affection melted over his face. He looked so very lovely in that moment that Sirius had to force his eyes to the floor, powerless as the warm sensation in his chest made his heart throb.

_ Look at me that way. Actually, don’t. Don’t ever. Or do, but only in secret. Or just never make that face again. It gives me feelings. _

“It does,” came Remus’s voice, all gentle velvet, “You must be a very powerful witch.”

“Yeah!” came Lucia’s giggle.

_ You’re jealous of a child.  _ Sirius thought to himself.  _ Pathetic. _

“Oi, Sirius, Remus!” called James. “Hurry up!” 

“Lucia, come here,” her mother picked her up. She said, mostly to Remus, “I’m so sorry about that,”

“It’s alright,” Remus smiled. He shook Lucia’s out-reached hand, “I got the opportunity to meet a powerful witch.”

Lucia giggled again and pulled Remus closer. Sirius noted, with only a little bit of bitterness, that Remus let himself be pulled. She whispered something in his ear that made Remus blush. And that was Sirius’s last straw.

“James is calling us.” Sirius said, eyeing the child.

Lucia stuck her tongue out at him.  _ The audacity of this arsehole— _ Sirius stuck his tongue back.

“Right, well, it was nice meeting you both,” Remus said to the horrible interrupters.

“Likewise,” the mother returned, faintly.

“Bye-bye!” Lucia waved.

“Bye, Lucia,” Remus waved back.

* * *

“Were they holding hands because they’re dah—day—day-ting?”

Gracie looked down at her troublesome daughter. “Lucia…” she recalled the pale boy’s mounting anger and gave a relieved sigh that nothing had happened. She had to warn her daughter to never interrupt two people when they were on a date, particularly when one of them was as hostile as that boy had been. “When two people love each other very much…”

“They hold hands?”

“...Yes.” Gracie was too tired to have this conversation. She would get her wife to explain when they floo-ed home.

Lucia giggled. “Angry and Lovely sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G—”

* * *

“Do you feel better?” Euphemia patted Remus’s back.

“Yeah…” the boy lied, “I’m—fine…” and then he vomited again.

“Oh, poor darling,” Euphemia patted him again. She’d already cast two anti-nausea spells on him. The magic-nullifying property of his lycanthrope biology was really quite troublesome. She cast a patronus notifying Fleamont to brew some anti-nausea potion for when they returned.

“Thank you, Euphemia,” Remus sighed, pale-faced and sickly.

“Oh, Remus,” Euphemia worried. She cast three scourgifies on his throw-up and then aguamentied the scant remains. “Why did you go on the flying carpet in the first place?”

Remus took his seat on a bench. Euphemia handed him a handkerchief. “Sirius insisted.”

“You’re too much of a push-over, Remus.” Euphemia shook her head.

Remus smiled at her weakly. “I didn’t think it would be that bad,”

By this point, Euphemia was thoroughly sick of his excuses on other peoples’ behalf. “What do you  _ mean,  _ Remus. Lycanthropes are naturally averse to avian travel, of _course_ it would be that bad. Sirius really shouldn’t have insisted it of—oh, darling, are you alright?”

Remus had lost the faint colour left in his cheeks. His breathing was laboured. Euphemia recognised these symptoms. She swore in her mind. Why had she brought up the lycanthropy?

“Remus,” called Euphemia, rubbing circles on his back, “Remus, it’s alright.”

“You—how—”

“Don’t speak,” Euphemia summoned some cardamom infused with diluted drought of peace from her private cupboards. “Here, chew on this,”

She continued to rub circles on his back and murmur encouragement as he chewed on his cardamom and his breathing slowly calmed.

“I’m okay,” he said, after a while, “I’m okay, now, thank you,”

Euphemia eyed him. He was fond of chocolate, wasn’t he? She summoned a block of chocolate from the kitchens. “Here,”

“Thank you, Euphemia.”

“Don’t thank me, darling. I’m sorry for springing it up on you.”

He ate his chocolate in silence.

Euphemia rubbed his back and continued, “I only know because of Ahmed.”

A small, broken, “I’m sorry,” left his lips.

“You have absolutely  _ nothing  _ to be sorry for,” Euphemia told him. “Do you hear me? Don’t  _ ever  _ apologise for existing, Remus. The world is better for your existence.”

Remus stopped eating his chocolate. “James didn’t know until second-year,”

“James is a bit of a fool if it took him that long to realise his friend is suffering.” Euphemia dug into her pockets, “I’m sure I—there you have it,” she pulled out two mugs. “Pass me four squares of chocolate, darling,” Euphemia put two squares of chocolate into each mug and cast a heating charm. While the chocolate was melting, she summoned milk from home and cast an enchantment that ensured the milk would continue pouring into either mug in slow intervals. “Hot-chocolate always hits the spot.”

Remus smiled. It broke Euphemia’s heart, a little.

“To make it very, very clear, Remus, your lycanthropy doesn’t matter to me at all. The bias against lycanthropes is a very European one. They are simply magical creatures everywhere else in the world. You are simply you. I’m so unused to the entire bias that I—well, I’m very sorry for the distress I caused you, Remus.”

Remus shook his head, “It’s alright, Euphemia.”

“You forgive too easily,”

“As do you,” he smiled a small smile.

“None of that, Remus.” Euphemia told him, seriously. “There is nothing to forgive. You simply have magic in your veins, just like me—here, the hot chocolate is done.” she passed him a mug of hot-chocolate. He took it. Side to side, they drank from their mugs as they watched the flying carpets whizzing from one place to the next.

“I’ve always thought I had a fear of heights,” Remus said. “But it only materialised when I was in the air.”

Euphemia pat his back. “Lycanthropes are earthen by nature. The sea and the air are unfamiliar magical domains.”

“I never knew…” Remus whispered, as he took a sip of his hot-chocolate. 

_ Of course you didn’t,  _ thought Euphemia.  _ You’ve been trained by your surroundings to fear yourself. _

“So you met Lily,” Remus said, his smile still a tad stiff. 

Euphemia granted him the escape of a subject change. “I did, indeed.”

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?”

“I really didn’t want her to be, but, yes, she is,” Euphemia agreed.

Remus laughed.

“What I don’t understand,” Euphemia continued, “Is why she doesn’t just  _ admit  _ to liking James,”

“Truthfully speaking, I don’t think she quite understands it herself.” Remus shrugged.

“That’s just utter nonsense.”

“It really is. She’s lovely in every sense of the word but she’s a bit… hot-tempered, I guess. And James is a bit… well, purposefully annoying.”

Euphemia groaned. Her son was  _ exactly _ like his father, sometimes.

“Yeah…” Remus winced. “I honestly just think it’s a matter of time, though.”

“Indeed,” she sighed. “It really would be for the better if I left them to their own devices, wouldn't it?”

“Yeah…” Remus agreed. “They won’t learn otherwise.”

Euphemia sighed again. She cancelled her plans to get Wasif and Sanjeev involved. Ahmed would have to do.

“Speaking of, Euphemia,” Remus continued, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell James about Lily,”

“I won’t. That boy needs to grow a brain and figure it out for himself if he wants to be somebody in the world one day.”

Remus smiled at her gratefully. It occured to Euphemia to ask why Remus was so concerned in the first place.

He admitted, sheepishly, “Lily asked me to make sure you wouldn’t say anything to James,”

“Ah, yes, you’re quite close, aren’t you?”

Remus blushed, “Yes, I think we are.”

Euphemia scrutinised him. “Forgive me for being nosy, but do you like her?”

“I love her,” Remus answered, “Platonically.”

“You horrendous boy, you almost gave me a heart attack,” Euphemia clutched her chest.

Remus laughed brightly. “It’s purely platonic. We’re friends.”

_ Friends…  _ “Now that we’re talking about this, do _ you _ have anyone you fancy at school?”

Remus looked away, flushing.  _ Oh? Oh, oh, oh oh?  _ Euphemia waggled her eyebrows.

“Humour an old lady, Remus,”

“I—there’s this boy. Everyone says that he—I’m not sure. People say that he maybe fancies me.”

Euphemia could barely contain her excitement.  _ About time. _ “And do you fancy him?”

“I don’t know,” Remus looked into the distance. He chased the flying carpets with his eyes. “That was a lie. I don’t.”

_ Poor Sirius,  _ thought Euphemia.

“Does he stand a chance?” she asked.

Remus looked at his feet. “Yeah, I guess.”

_ He stands a chance!  _ Euphemia breathed a sigh of relief. “And what might the name of this fine young man be?”

“Uh, Bertram Aubrey.” said Remus.

_ What the fuck.  _ Euphemia stared at him.  _ Who the fuck is this Aubrey person and how on earth did he beat Sirius. _

“I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t, well, do an Ahmed on him,” Remus continued.

“I do it for your safety, dear. What if this boy is secretly a psychopath?”

Remus laughed. “Don’t worry, he’s not. I have strong instincts for danger.”

“Hmmm.” Euphemia’s mind was running extremely fast. She promised herself to give Ahmed a piece of her mind the next time she saw him. What on earth was he doing not telling her about this. “You don’t like him, though, right?”

“No,” Remus looked at his feet, “Not in that way.”

Euphemia sighed a quiet breath of relief. “Is there anyone else—” and before she had even finished, Remus was flushing red.  _ Damn it.  _ “So there is.”

Remus shook his head. And then, when he caught her eye, he sheepishly nodded.

_ Damn it all.  _ “Are they good-looking.”

Remus flushed even harder and covered his face with his hands. “Very.”

Euphemia spent a second swearing colourfully in Hindi inside her mind. She reminded herself that possibly no-one was better-looking than Sirius. “Better-looking than Sirius?”

Remus made an odd, completely indiscernible noise. Euphemia thought the worst. Love really  _ was  _ blind.

“That’s lovely.” Euphemia lied. “Just lovely.”

“I—it won’t go anywhere, though.” Remus said, emerging from his hands once he’d regained his composure. 

“Oh no!” Euphemia lied, extremely pleased, “That’s horrible!”

Remus shrugged. “Can we please talk about something else, Euphemia?”

“Of-course, darling—” Euphemia started before an extremely fast flying carpet whizzed past her and the sound of screaming and crying entered her ears. She followed the carpet with her eyes, only in order to discover James and Sirius sitting in front, laughing maniacally, while poor Peter hung on for his dear life, and the carpet rider wailed desperately in the back. 

“Yup.” said Remus, utterly resigned. “As expected.”

* * *

“Welcome home, Mr James Evans and co.” Fleamont greeted. He kissed Euphemia, “Welcome home, love of my life.”

“Your son,” began Euphemia, dangerously. “Got us all banned from the carnival. For life.”

“Really?” Fleamont turned to James. “That’s brilliant!” 

James grinned back at him. “Sirius and I managed to take over one of the flying carpets.”

“Oh, that’s just fantastic—ally horrible, James.” his tone changed when he noticed his wife glaring at him. “That’s horrible. You are grounded.” He turned to Sirius, “I’m not allowed to ground you. That was fantastic, my boy.” he high-fived a beaming Sirius.

“Don’t encourage them, you fool.”

“Oh, Behzad, Behzad, lighten-up,” Fleamont took hold of her and spun her around. He broke into a dance, twirling his wand to turn on the music. Despite her very best efforts, Euphemia started smiling. “I missed you, Behzad.”

“We saw each other this morning,” she smiled.

“I know. The wait nearly killed me.” and he kissed her again.

James began retching in the background.

“Don’t be bitter, Mr James Evans,” Fleamont called.

_ “Why _ did I come back,” James asked Sirius, Remus and Peter. “Tell me why.”

Fleamont very dramatically dipped Euphemia and kissed her again.

_ “Ew.”  _ James returned, equally as dramatically.

“Stop teasing him.” Euphemia laughed, breaking away.

“Look what you’ve done, Mr James Evans,” Fleamont turned to James. “You’ve offended my lady-love.” 

“Did  _ everyone _ read my diary.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Fleamont grinned, looking at that moment the very spitting image of James. “We read it out-loud around the fire-place,”

_ “No  _ we didn’t, James.” Euphemia refuted, “It was just me.”

“Then how does he know!” James demanded.

Fleamont waggled his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Yes,  _ dad,  _ I  _ would,  _ actually—”

Euphemia rolled her eyes at them and turned to Sirius, Remus and Peter. “Dinner will be ready in about an hour. Any requests?”

“Chocolate pudding,” said Sirius.

Euphemia smiled and patted his head. “Chocolate pudding, it is, then,” 

And then they all had a very nice dinner.

* * *

“Mum!” called Remus, as he knocked on the cottage door. “I’m home!” 

“Remus!” came her voice from inside the cottage. The door swung open, “Oh, my baby,” she hugged him.

“Mum,” Remus tightened the hug.

She pulled back, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” said Remus, as he felt his voice crack embarrassingly, “I’m just glad to be home.”

She smiled, stroking his cheek, “Me too, love,”

* * *

“Mind telling me why you aren’t packed.” Sev asked Reg, accusingly.

“I’ll pack after dinner.” Reg answered, eating a spoonful of potatoes.

“This is all awfully last minute for you.” Sev eyed him suspiciously.

“Is it?” Reg asked, smiling.

Sev gave up and turned away to talk to someone less insufferable.

* * *

“You realise that we have a dozen spare rooms, right?” Euphemia asked Sirius and James.

““Yeah,””

“And yet you still insist on sleeping in the same room.”

“”Yeah,””

“Well, whatever. It’s no hair off my back,” Euphemia shrugged.

“No  _ skin  _ off my back, Behzad,” Fleamont corrected.

“Skin? That sounds awful.”

“Thus the comparison,” Fleamont rolled his eyes affectionately. “‘ _ It’s not awful,’  _ so it’s no problem, get it?” 

“No. English is horrible.”

Fleamont laughed fondly, “That it is,”

* * *

“Remus, what’s wrong?” Hope asked.

“It’s nothing, mum—”

“Don’t you give me that nothing nonsense.” she glared at him. “You promised me you wouldn’t anymore.”

Remus smiled at her. “Just a bit tired.”

“You promised you wouldn’t lie, either.”

“I  _ am  _ actually tired, though—”

“Don’t you try me, Remus John Lupin.”

Remus laughed, “Okay, okay. I—it’s good to be back.”

“And?” her voice softened, “Why do you have that expression on your face,”

Remus’s composure cracked a little. He whispered, “I like him.”

“What?” Hope frowned, “Who?”

“Him. Sirius.”

“Remus, that’s—what wrong?” She moved towards him, “Hey, Remus, what happened?”

“I can’t.” Remus whispered. “I can’t stop.”

Hope hugged him to her.

“I’m tired, mum.”

“Then rest, love,” she hugged him tighter.

* * *

“Mum,” James asked, as he was brushing his teeth, “Why  _ did  _ you pick us all up early?”

Euphemia smiled at him from the sofas. “On a whim.”


	19. Much Ado and Good-night, Darling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am.  
SO SORRY.  
This is so incredibly delayed!
> 
> If it's any sort of excuse, I just started Uni and I've been kind of in over my head.  
To summarise: I do apologise. Hopefully, this chapter makes up for it?
> 
> STAY SAFE KIDDOS!

_ “Glasses,” _ came a whisper from the Ravenclaw table.

Feigning ignorance _ almost _ impeccably, James continued on his stroll towards The Gryffindors. He appeared as he always did. That is to say, he appeared good. Great, actually. His perfect brown skin was perfect and brown. His amazing, luscious hair was amazing and luscious _ (shut up, Sirius) _. 

Oh, and on top of his nose sat simple, black-rimmed glasses. 

Which, you know, was _ fine. _ Because James looked great.

The Ravenclaws were gaping at him.

“They think you’ve stolen their look,” whispered Sirius.

James was a self-assured individual. He smiled confidently. “They think I look good.”

“You look like a nerd, Jamesie.” 

In one fell swoop, all the arrogance melted off of James’s shoulders. He scowled miserably at Sirius.

“A fit nerd,” Sirius comforted, in a discomforting way, because he was laughing.

“Shut up.” James returned. James Potter was really not up for it today.

It was the first day of term, and James was debuting his new look. His new Nerdy Git look. The new, stupid, dork look which his mum had forced upon him because she’d discovered that he was half-blind and then read somewhere that long-term charms fuck with the natural biology of the body.

Hence, The Glasses.

James strolled across The Great Hall, ignoring the stares as best he could. _ I look good. I look good. _ Merlin, why was everyone so obsessed with him? _ I look good, I look good, I look good! _

“I look like an idiot.” he said, his shoulders slumping.

Sirius snickered in agreement.

“You look fine, James,” Remus rolled his eyes. “And you can’t look like an idiot if you look like a nerd. Those things are mutually exclusive.”

“Objection.” Sirius raised a hand.

Remus sent him a withering look. “Your evidence?”

Sirius gestured towards The Ravenclaws.

“You can’t use Bertram as evidence, Sirius.”

“Yeah,” James agreed. “Aubrey doesn’t look like an idiot, at all.”

“Pretty nerdy, though.” Peter added, from the side.

James glanced at Bertram, who was wearing his own black glasses. For some sudden, inexplicable reason, he felt a surge of protectiveness. He scowled at Peter, “Don’t talk about my brethren like that.”

Remus was pursing his lips in an attempt not to laugh, “He’s not your brethren just because you both wear glasses,”

Sirius—diametrically opposite to Remus’s calm—looked utterly betrayed. “I thought _ I _ was your brethren.”

Ignoring Remus’s logic (as was the norm), James pushed his glasses up his nose and sent Sirius a hard look. “That was before you said I look like a nerd.”

“I said it with affection!” Sirius defended, poorly, because he was laughing. “You look like a fit nerd.”

“I look like an idiot.” muttered James, taking his seat. His glum mood made his movements unusually contained.

Remus sat down next to him. “They’re mutually exclusive, you can’t be both.”

“Stop being anal,” Sirius rolled his eyes, reaching over for the toast.

“Only if you start making some fucking sense.”

James stopped what he was doing and turned to stare at Remus. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Sirius doing the same.

“We’ve ruined you,” he remarked, admiring Remus’s answering grin. 

“We’ve _ enhanced _you,” Sirius corrected, passing Remus a trophy of appreciation in the form of a blueberry muffin.

James felt some of the tension leak out of his body. Friendship brought comforting normalcy to the unnerving experience of being held unwillingly under spotlight. James sent a fond look across the table, to Sirius’s arrogant, kiwi-head mug, and then beside him, to Remus’s sarcastic, freckly mug. He loved them both very much. He sent Remus an extra heart-eyed look. This experience had given him a personal understanding of Remus’s aversion to being the centre of attention.

“Lily’s—looking at you?” whispered Peter from across the table.

All thoughts of gratefulness and friendship heart-nonsense were forgotten. James felt his heartbeat speed up. He restrained the desire to tear his glasses from his face. That would be pathetic. James was many things, but he was never pathetic. That was just lame. _ I look good, _ he reminded himself, running a hand through his amazing, luscious hair _ (shut up, Sirius). _

_ Dumbledore has glasses, _ he reassured himself. _ Minnie has glasses. It’s fine. _

_ DAD has glasses. It’s fine. _

Sirius kicked him under the table. James met his eyes. _ Fit nerd, _Sirius mouthed, in consolation. Or tried to mouth, in an attempt at consolation. (He’d been chewing simultaneously, he’d only half-succeeded.)

Marlene caught James’s eye and tapped the bridge of her nose before sending him a thumbs up. He felt his entire disposition lighten at the action. Marlene was awesome. James pushed his glasses up his nose and grinned back at her. _ See? They’re not that bad, _he told himself. He tried very hard not to glance at Evans, who was sitting just to Marlene’s right. 

He failed, of course. 

It was impossible to ignore Lily’s existence. It was like trying to ignore the sun. (Not that James had ever tried to ignore the sun.)

(He _ had, _however, tried to ignore Evans.)

_ (Very _unsuccessfully.)

She was looking at him _(she’s looking at me!), _and on her face lay not even a pebble of interest. James took a breath and repeated his mantra. _I look good, I look good, I look good._

_ Do you think I look good? _he wondered, as he met her gemlike gaze and his heart threatened to spontaneously combust.

“Like what you see?” James asked her.

(He felt more than heard Remus stifle a groan—which he then promptly ignored because Remus was always stifling a groan.)

“I’m looking at you, so no.” Evans replied, turning back to her breakfast.

James wondered when on earth he’d ever get used to her rejections. One would think that after being rejected pretty much everyday, he’d have developed a sort of immunity, or at least be partly desensitised. But, no. Every rejection sucked a sweatier ball-sack than the last.

James sent his depressing sentiments to Sirius through the mode of—oh, who was he kidding. Sweaty ball-sacks were sweaty and gross. James was miserable and his hair was a disaster.

“Walk it off,” Sirius whispered.

To display his never-ending gratitude for Sirius’s support, James gave him the finger and then turned to Remus. Sirius was a useless bastard. Remus had enough conscience to at least try to make an effort. 

After thirty seconds of being stared at, Remus sighed. _ Come on, Remus! _ encouraged James, non-verbally, _ I know you love me! _ Remus sighed again—longer and slower this time. He sent James his ‘ _ The Things I Do For You’ _look. Then, he delivered—as James had always known he would—“I think you look nice, James.”

“Fit nerd.” Sirius agreed. 

James just barely stopped his head from dropping into his hands. _ Why _was Sirius allowed to speak? Who the fuck had given Sirius the permission to have a voice?

“Yes!” said Marlene. “Fit nerd—that’s what it was—perfect, Sirius.”

_ G-r-e-a-t. _The Fit Nerd thing had stuck. James glared at Sirius. Sirius had the bloody audacity to wink back, because he was Sirius, and of course he did.

“You like it, then?” Sirius asked Marlene.

“Well, yeah.” she answered. “It’s Jamesie, he can pull off anything.”

Marlene was so bloody awesome. James could just kiss her. Metaphorically, that is. Not physically. Because, well—Evans.

After very valiantly delivering on behalf of James, Remus went back to eating his breakfast. In reward for his efforts, James granted him his peace.

“Oi, Lily,” Sirius called, because he derived pleasure in waking every sleeping dog in existence. “D’you like the glasses?”

James pursed his lips and kicked at Sirius viciously under the table. Through the same strange (and in this case, unfortunate) telepathic means as always, Sirius managed to avoid his approaching foot.

As Evans looked over, James shouted the thought, _ I LOOK GOOD. _ Drumming his fingers on the table, he repeated in his mind, _ I look good, I look good, I look good. _ Of course he did. He always did. It was just— _ glasses. _ It was glasses. And glasses were just— _ ugh. _ He looked like a nerd.

Obviously, he looked like a good-looking nerd. But a nerd was a nerd. And did Evans like nerds? She was awfully nice to Snape—who was honestly one of the nerdiest people James had ever known. But did anyone _ like _ Snape? _ Like _like?

Did anyone _ like _like nerds?

Remus elbowed him in the side. James shut off his mind.

And then Evans answered Sirius’s question. “I don’t really care, either way,”

* * *

Lily was so full of shit. Sirius raised his eyebrows in an amused scoff.

Bull—_ shit _she ‘didn’t care, either way.’ James looked great—like the King of all Fit Nerds.

The Fit Nerd look was a good look. The Nerd Look in general was a good look—with the books, and the… and… _ fuck, Remus is a nerd, isn’t he? _

Well, at least now Sirius knew why he liked The Nerd Look so much. Not that Remus was a nerd, per se. Except he _ totally was. _ He _ totally _was. Completely.

Now was not the time for brilliant revelations, though. Lily was blushing in an obvious admission that her indifference was complete bullshit. And _ come on, _ it was _ so _obvious. If James didn’t notice, Sirius was going to scream.

And, as always, James didn’t notice. Of course he didn’t. The moron.

And Sirius almost _ did _scream, except that would have embarrassed Remus (and other, more irrelevant people), and so, no. And well, no.

_ Ugh. _

* * *

Remus didn’t understand how he was going to get it into The Idiot Duo’s heads that wearing glasses didn’t necessarily equal being a nerd.

“You realise,” he tried, “that you’re perpetuating a harmful stereotype.”

James scrunched his nose. “I respect The Nerds.”

“Stop capitalising that.” Remus said. “It’s insulting.”

James had the good grace to look ashamed. “I didn’t mean to insult them.” And then he ruined his good grace because he said, “They’re my brethren,”

“Why,” asked Remus, “are you such a fucking idiot?”

Sirius gasped theatrically in the background. He enjoyed adding senseless drama to completely normal situations.

Remus sent him a quelling look. Sirius grinned back in such a stupidly charming way that Remus’s heart did a weird-fucking-_ eurgh. Woe is me, _ Remus lamented internally. _ And woe is my life. _

“James,” said Remus, ignoring his unfortunate feelings. “Listen to me closely, because I am close to killing you, right now.”

James looked mournfully at Remus.

“Wearing glasses doesn’t make you a nerd. Not everyone who wears glasses is a nerd.” Remus explained, trying to be as clear as possible, “By believing that everyone who wears glasses is a nerd, you’re judging people on their appearance. That is rude. You are being rude.” James squirmed uncomfortably. “Beyond that,” Remus continued, “by being upset about being a ‘nerd,’ you’re supporting the _ really rude _stereotype that being serious or academic is unattractive and boring.”

_ Finally, _finally, some shame on James’s face.

“I don’t think that being serious and academic is unattractive and boring,” said James.

“I know,” said Remus. “You’re just stupid.”

“Thanks, Re— wait a second—”

Remus turned to Sirius and his perpetual unrepentance. “And you.”

Sirius raised his hands in surrender. “I think that being serious and academic is sexy.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Stop with the ‘Fit Nerd,’”

“I like nerds, though,” Sirius defended, his hands still raised.

“So do I.” James added, raising his own hands. “Evans is a nerd.”

“The _ point,” _Remus said, as patiently as he could manage, “is that calling someone a nerd is rude.”

“What if you say it nicely?” Sirius asked, “What if you mean it as a compliment?”

“It doesn’t matter how you mean it. Most people will interpret it as an insult,” Remus shrugged, “and either way, by compartmentalising people into groups you’re subconsciously dehumanising them.”

“But what if they don’t see it as an insult or in a dehumanising way or whatsit.”

Remus turned away from his half-tortoise, half-teapot transfiguration mess. Both Sirius and James were staring back at him blankly, their hands raised as if they were being held at wand-point. (Remus didn’t even attempt to make sense of that one.) He felt obligated to make them understand. (Because no-one else would and he had a duty to the wider public.) (And also because they were idiots, but they were _ his _idiots.)

“Well, for one,” he began, “it’s hardly a compliment and so saying it to someone serves no purpose. If it serves no purpose, uh, just don’t, please. For another,” he paused to think of the best way to word it, “most people _ would _take it as an insult, so don’t, for fuck’s sake, please.”

The Idiot Duo nodded slowly and lowered their hands. Remus sighed a breath of relief.

“Uh, Remus?” Peter called, faintly.

“Yeah?” Remus turned to Peter and the aggressive tea-pot that was biting his finger. “Shit—” and the rest of the lesson passed in frantic transfiguration spells.

* * *

“Hey, Remus?” Peter asked, during lunch break.

“Yeah?”

“D’you think we can make the map today?”

Remus chewed carefully before answering. “We can start, probably.”

Peter frowned. “Can’t we finish it, yet?”

“Uh, probably not, Pete. I don’t think we know enough about the school, yet,”

Sullenly, Peter ate a spoonful of mashed potatoes.

“Did you get lost?” Remus asked, lowering his voice.

Peter had, indeed, gotten lost. Again. This time on his way to Divination.

“The stairs have it out for me.” he muttered.

“I think they have it out for me, as well.” Remus admitted. “The ones leading to the fourth floor moved before I could step on them and I had to take a massive detour.”

Peter revelled in the idea that he wasn’t being personally targeted by Hogwarts. “Really?” he asked, cheerfully.

Remus nodded, grimacing slightly as he recollected, “I lost five house points because I was late to Ancient Runes.”

Peter smiled. It was nice not being the only unfortunate one.

* * *

Sirius couldn’t stop thinking about how Remus was a nerd. (He was _ such _a nerd.)

Sirius wondered if calling him a nerd would insult him.

Only one way to find out.

“Hey, Remus,” Sirius said, once they were back in their rooms. “Would you be offended if I called you a nerd?”

Remus looked up from emptying out his rucksack. “What did you not understand about ‘rude,’ and ‘dehumanising,’?”

“You said that _ most _people would take it as an insult,” Sirius countered. “Most doesn’t mean all.”

After a moment of internal conflict, which played out on Remus’s face in a series of small frowns, he sighed in defeat. “I don’t particularly care, no.”

Sirius grinned. He knew it. “You nerd.”

“I’m so glad my efforts in trying to make you less offensive aren’t going to waste.”

“Nerd.” said Sirius.

“I’ve learnt, Remus.” James called. “I don’t think The Nerds are my brethren anymore.”

“What did I say about capitalising that phrase.”

“I mean it with affection.”

Remus turned back to his rucksack. “I know that you both are doing this to irritate me. It’s not going to work.”

_ Awe, _thought Sirius.

“Awe, Remus,” James pouted. “You’re no fun today.”

“I’m always fun,” returned Remus. “I’m the very epitome of fun.”

“Epitome?” repeated Sirius. “Pffft. Nerd.”

“Lucky for you, Sirius, I’m not planning on being any fun today.” and then Remus pulled his sweater over his head, which was always loads of fun for Sirius, so the joke was on him, really.

Except the joke wasn’t on him at all. The joke was on Sirius and the fucking disaster of his feelings.

But, whatever. They’d fade. One day. Most definitely.

_ This is ephemeral, _Sirius reminded himself as he eyed Remus—who was still taking off his sweater. He had cut his hair over winter break, the curls barely curled anymore. He had grown as well, just slightly. He was just that bit lankier. It was especially obvious when he was taking off his sweater. Which he was, currently. It was honestly unnecessary, there was no need to change sweaters. Sirius’s tongue felt like it had been transfigured into sandpaper. When and where had all his saliva gone?

And Remus. Taking off his sweater.

Why was this moment always so. Fucking. Drawn out? If Remus wasn’t Remus, Sirius would suspect that he was doing this on purpose. But Remus was Remus, and the word _seduction _didn’t exist in his dictionary, unless the word _accidental _was in front of it.

_ Ugh. _

* * *

James Potter and glasses.

James Potter and glasses was a catastrophe.

James Potter and glasses was a catastrophe that Lily really wasn’t prepared for.

Intellectuality—howsoever fake—was a good look. Good being a massive understatement.

It was just—glasses. It was glasses. Glasses and James Potter.

It absolutely _ killed _ Lily to admit it, it absolutely _ destroyed _ her to inflate his already overblown ego, but he… well, what had Sirius said again? Right. _ ‘Fit nerd.’ _

_ ‘Fit.’ _

Unfortunately.

* * *

“I’m back!” Peter announced, throwing the door to their shared bedroom open.

“Hi,” Remus waved from his bed.

James made a noise of half-greeting. Sirius continued to fiddle with his guitar (tuning it, or whatever it was that he spent _ all day doing _). 

“I’ve got the books!” Peter continued, his eyes shining. “On the tracking charms!”

James snapped out of his muffled daydreaming, and Sirius put down his guitar. They were both only circumstantially respectful.

“Brilliant, Pete,” Sirius said, reaching out for the books as Peter drew near.

Remus burrowed deeper into his covers. He knew what was coming.

“Let’s begin, lads!” James commanded. “To Remus’s bed!”

Remus groaned. “Why always _ my _bed—”

“What’s the incantation?” James asked, as he flung himself onto Remus’s bed.

Sirius threw himself on top of Remus’s covers and flipped through a large, blue book, “Dunno. Pete?”

Peter sat next to Remus and set the rest of the books down on his lap. “Not sure. Remus?”

They all turned to look at Remus. Remus stared back at them all, willing all expression off his face.

“Well?” James demanded, pulling his legs up and crossing them.

Remus took a deep breath. “I don’t—”

“Remus,” whined Sirius.

Remus looked at him incredulously. “Why the fuck would I know?”

“Because you’re very smart?” Peter suggested, guilelessly.

“Right.” Remus looked at their expectant faces in turn. A small little bubble of relationship obligation bloomed within him. “I’ve heard the homonculous charm—”

“Sirius!” commanded James. 

Sirius began to furiously turn the pages of the book he was holding.

“—is often used in map-making. Thank you all for listening to me. I appreciate it.” The little bubble of relationship obligation withered and died.

“Did you find it?” James asked Sirius.

Sirius shook his head in frustration. “This is all about the history of _ Accio—” _

“Peter!” James commanded.

Peter began to furiously look through another book.

Remus commented, to James, “I have a suggestion.”

James looked back at him brightly, “Yeah?”

“Why don’t _ you _help—”

“Rubbish,” James said, waving Remus away. “Peter!” 

“Nothing,” Peter returned, desolately.

Remus sighed and borrowed himself deeper into his covers. This was going to take a while. 

And a while it indeed took. It was twenty minutes before Sirius threw the last book down in disgust.

“You’re useless.” he told Peter.

Peter shrivelled into himself.

“To be fair, so are you.” Remus commented. “At least Peter went all the way to the library.”

Sirius flung himself down on the covers and moaned loudly.

“Also,” Remus continued, conversationally, “We need a map before we can cast the charm.”

James turned to him, indignant. “You could have _ told _us,”

“You could have done this literally anywhere else.”

James sniffed. Sirius turned a morose eye up at Remus. 

“I have, um,” Peter looked around nervously, “parchment?”

“Brilliant, Peter!” James called, instantly revived.

Remus sighed.

* * *

“We know nothing.” James concluded, as he gazed down at the half blank parchment.

“It turns out that we’re _ all _useless.” Sirius agreed. “Except for you, Remus, you’re just lazy.”

Remus smiled indolently at Sirius (the _ dimples. _Ugh.) “I made no promises to be helpful.”

“Yes, well, I made no promises that I wouldn’t shit on the floor but you don’t see me shitting on the floor, do you?”

“That was a rubbish comparison, Sirius,”

“You have disappointed me, young Lupin.” James announced.

“Huh,” said Remus, in wonder, “It’s usually the other way around, isn’t it?”

“The map,” muttered Peter, sadly.

_ The map, _ thought Sirius, in despair, looking down at the _ at least _50% empty map—or drawing—or, whatever, parchment.

The sound of Remus’s sigh made the hair on the back of Sirius’s neck stand on end. Remus was always sighing, and the hair on the back of Sirius’s neck was consequently always standing on end.

“We can fill it up over time.” Remus said, too kind to be begrudging about it. “I’ll help out.”

Sirius beamed at Remus, instinctively. Remus blinked back _ (that’s new) _ and then smiled, slowly. And blushed. Slightly. _ Damn it, Remus. _ Sirius felt himself blushing, as well. Damn it all. Damn it all to Hades and back. Fuck.

The moment was broken when James thumped Remus on the back and side-tackled him into a hug.

“Thanks, Remus,” Peter smiled.

Remus emerged from under James looking tousled. “It’s fine, Peter,”

“Let’s go, then!” James exclaimed.

Remus stilled rather comically. “Sorry?”

James got out of bed and pulled Sirius up with him. If Sirius had been born with a conscience, he’d have felt just a bit sympathetic. As it was, Sirius was remorseless. And also feeling a tad awkward. Because, you know. Feelings.

And so, Sirius pulled off Remus’s covers and grinned at his death-glare while James got out his invisibility cloak. After several failed attempts at physically overpowering Remus, and then one successful attempt of sad-dog eyes, they were all sneaking out of their dorm.

* * *

_ This clear vision business, _ thought James, as he took note of his surroundings, _ is right brilliant. _

“Having glasses is amazing,” he muttered.

“Do my ears deceive me?” asked Sirius. “Am I hallucinating?”

“Have we all died?” asked Remus. He turned to James, “Do you feel ill?”

“I thought you hated your glasses?” asked Peter.

“Well observed.” Sirius patted his shoulder.

“Fuck off,” James said. “Being able to see is nice.”

“Even if it makes you look like a ‘nerd,’?” Remus asked, smiling.

“I apologise to The Nerds—”

“Stop capitalising that—”

_ “You’re _the group nerd, Remus,” Sirius interrupted.

“Fuck’s sake,” Remus sighed, “What did I say about—” he broke off and, eyes widening, mouthed, _ Filch. _

“Who’s there?” came Filch’s croak. “Potter?”

_ Fuck, _James mouthed, exchanging frantic glances with the rest of his friends as he fumbled with the invisibility cloak.

“Black?” Filch croaked, louder and more furious this time.

Sirius rolled his eyes. Remus took hold of his arm and pulled him towards the rest of them.

“Mrs Norris, you heard that, didn’t you?” he purred.

At the nauseating display of Filch's split personality, Sirius made eye contact with James and gagged noiselessly. James let out a trickle of laughter

“Potter!” yelled Filch. “I heard you! And Black! You wait right there—”

_ Fuck, _James fumbled faster with the invisibility cloak.

“He’s so unfair,” muttered Sirius to Remus and Peter, “You guys are here, as well—"

Remus covered Sirius’s mouth with his hand as James finally managed to disentangle the cloak. As James held out the invisibility cloak and ushered them all closer, he wondered where on earth any of them would be without Remus.

“Careful,” he hissed as someone trod on his toes.

“Sorry,” muttered Peter, “Ow!”

“Sirius, stop it with the elbows,” whispered Remus.

“Someone’s touching my bum,” Sirius whispered back.

“It’s me, you idiot, there’s no space,” James returned.

_ “Shhhh,” _Peter shushed.

Mrs Norris leapt out from the corner just as James managed to cover them all.

_ That fucking cat, _thought James, as he held his breath and eyed Mrs Norris unpleasantly scanning where they hid in plain sight.

Filch followed closely after, equally as horrible as his pet.

“Do you smell them, my sweet?” he asked his demon cat, in a soft, high-pitched voice. It was quite possibly the most disturbing thing James had ever experienced.

Mrs Norris rubbed her head on Filch’s trouser’s and mewed.

“Hate that fucking cat,” whispered Sirius, softly.

James elbowed him in the side. Sirius let out a low groan. _ Weakling, _ thought James. And then he realised, watching Sirius cradle both sides of his waist, that Remus had elbowed Sirius’s other side at the exact same time. _ Oops. _

Filch straightened suddenly and narrowed his eyes. “I know you both are here.” He sounded every bit a mad man. Turning in a slow circle and narrowing his eyes further, he said, “Mrs Norris and I will spare no efforts in finding you.”

James felt an unexplainable and dangerous urge to laugh. Filch was so intense.

Filch continued, sneering, “I will see you both expelled today.”

Peter began to tremble in fear. James felt Sirius start to laugh beside him.

* * *

Filch had a ten metre, metal pole up his arse.

Sirius started laughing, he couldn’t help it. Especially when Pete began that weird shivering thing he did when he was scared.

He couldn’t stop even when Remus moved closer from behind and wrapped a hand around his mouth. That addition to the situation may actually have made everything more hysterical. 

It was all the skin, and the warmth, and the smell of Remus’s palm—which smelled exactly like anyone else’s palm, but carried a soft sentiment to it—because it was Remus Lupin, the gentle, nerd werewolf who wore cardigans and had dimples and carried the world in his smile.

He was touching Sirius, and he was just—a human heat radiator. And he had blinked and then blushed earlier. 

It would be so easy, wouldn’t it?

Just one push and Remus would… or would he? Maybe he wouldn’t. And Sirius didn’t want to. Or he did, very desperately, but he knew that it wasn’t wise. Not that Sirius was ever really wise. He was just—Remus was precious, and precious things should be treated with care. That’s all.

The feeling of Remus’s palm against his lips had nothing to do with it. The image of Remus’s reaction if Sirius just… yeah, no. Hahaha. No 

So yeah, it added to the hysteria. Sirius found it very difficult to stop laughing.

_ “Sirius,” _Remus whispered, harshly, against his ear.

Goosebumps, every place his breath had touched. _ Hahahah, you’ll be the death of me, Remus Lupin. Ahahahaha— _

“Sirius, the cloak—” James hissed, frantically adjusting the moving cloak to keep them all covered.

Remus moved closer from behind and pulled Sirius flush against his body to stop him from shaking. This was very counterproductive, mostly because Sirius only really had half a brain, even on the best of days, and when in close proximity to one Remus Lupin, that half a brain deteriorated very rapidly indeed. And so, Sirius Black was left with not much more than a handful of poorly functioning brain cells. Or so it seemed, with the way he reacted.

Which was first to melt into Remus’s body, and then upon feeling the warmth and the solidity, promptly jerk away, fall onto James and then accidentally push him out of the cover of the invisibility cloak.

* * *

_ Well shit, _thought Remus as he saw James fall out of the silvery cover of the cloak.

And then he thought, _ Bloody fuck, _because for fuck knows what reason, Sirius threw himself after him.

It was a bloody miracle that Filch had been facing away. By the time he spun back around—incited by Mrs Norris’s frantic yowls—both The Idiot Duo had changed into their Animagi forms and Remus had readjusted the cloak.

Remus watched placidly as Filch stared in shock at the young buck and black dog which stood in the middle of the seventh floor corridor. It was an odd moment filled with pity that Remus had never known he’d have the capacity to feel for Filch, of all people.

“What—” Filch moved away from the wild animals that were silently staring back at him. “A woodland creature, in _ my _corridors—my sweet,” he addressed Mrs Norris, trying to push her behind him, “get back,”

Mrs Norris snarled at The Idiot Duo, her body arced and her hair rising.

Remus was not at all surprised to observe Sirius snarl back and make a move to bite her.

He held back a sigh and rearranged the invisibility cloak around himself and the violently trembling Peter.

* * *

Mrs Fucking Norris had another thing coming if she thought Sirius would just silently allow himself to be bullied. Sirius was fully prepared for a cat fight. In both the physical _ and _ metaphorical sense of the phrase.

He was getting ready to pounce and then attack when James bit the skin over his neck and began prancing (he was a fucking deer, of course he was prancing) away from the scene of conflict.

Sirius made sure to bare his teeth and growl menacingly at both Filch and Filch Cat Version as he was carried away by James.

* * *

In all his life, never had Argus Filch expected to find wild animals in his perfectly pristine corridors.

Wild animals! In _ his _corridors! Imagine!

The world was just going to shambles. Filch made a plan to disinfect the seventh floor walls from top to bottom.

All thoughts of Potter and Black, those third-year hellions, were forgotten. Filch had more important things to do.

Like _ clean. _

“Come along, my sweet,” he told Mrs Norris, in the process completely missing her increasingly hysterical mewing. “We’re going to Dumbledore—

* * *

Sev stared impassively at Lily while she had her weekly melt-down over Potty. He’d never been particularly sympathetic, and particularly so in this regard—Potty was exactly as his nickname suggested.

An utter shite.

Mildly better than Black, though, Sev supposed.

He just didn’t understand what Lily saw in him. He told her as such.

“You think _ I _understand?” Lily asked him, her eyes hysterical.

Sev was ruthless. “If you don’t understand it, it’s not a cru—”

_ “Don’t say the word.” _

Sev rolled his eyes. “It’s not a—crumble.”

“It’s not a crumble.” Lily agreed, her eyes still so dangerously hysterical. “Not a crumble at all.”

“You look like a crazy person.”

Lily spun around, her hair trailing after her like a flame. “His glasses.”

“Fucking. Merlin.” Sev couldn’t deal with this. “Lils. He’s a wanker.”

“He’s—he’s—yes.” Lily nodded. “No, he—he’s not,” she shook her head.

“Right. Well, I’m leaving—have fun being crazy.”

“You’re not leaving.”

“As you can see, Lily,” Sev got up and began speed walking away. “I _ am! _Bye!”

“No.” Lily began speed walking after him. “You’re not.”

Sev broke into a run.

“You’re breaking the best friend code!” Lily shouted, as she fell into a sprint after him.

If Sev had had the lung capacity, he’d have told her that the best friend code was utter bullshit and also to kindly fuck off.

* * *

Sirius was the _ luckiest _ person in the world to have James as a friend. Not _ one _single person in the world would have suffered through the taste of Sirius’s dog hair just to make sure he didn’t end up being mauled by Flinch’s demon cat.

(Except for maybe Remus.)(Maybe.)

And so James reminded himself that he was literally the best thing to have ever happened to Sirius as he bounded them towards the common-room. It made the taste of his dog hair (which tasted exactly like… dog hair) marginally more bearable. 

He turned a corner, his hoofs slipping, and stopped short of stamping Snape to death. Though he did, in the process, accidentally _ (it was an accident, I swear!) _smack him across the face with Sirius’s body.

* * *

Lily caught up to Sev’s surprisingly fast run just in time to watch him be smacked in the face with a black object by a deer.

Hogwarts. Was one weird school.

“What—the—fuck.” Sev huffed, cupping his cheek and staring incredulously at the silent, watchful deer—as well as the squirming black object it was carrying in its mouth.

“Sev—” Lily huffed, eyeing the weird furry black weapon.

Sev looked up at her sourly from the floor. “No more—about—the crumble—and Potty.”

The deer grunted and let go of the black object. Lily noticed, belatedly, that the squirming thing was Snuffles.

“Snuffles!” she squealed.

“Great.” muttered Sev, picking himself off the floor. “The mutt.”

The deer stamped his hooves as Lily tried to move closer, frightening poor Snuffles. “Merlin, the fucking deer—” Lily shooed it away and inched towards the frightened puppy, “Come here, precious,” she cooed, softly.

The sound of the deer stomping its hooves made Lily jump. She looked with trepidation at the increasingly frantic woodland creature. Was it going to—attack? 

“Snuffles,” Lily whispered, wary of offending the deer. “Come here,”

Snuffles barked and, avoiding the increasingly hysterical animal, ran straight into Lily’s waiting arms. _ The poor puppy, _she thought, catching him and cuddling him close to her bosom. “You’re safe now, doggy,” she reassured, burying her face into his black fur. 

“Ugh.” groaned Sev, at the sight. “The mutt.”

* * *

Today was the most beautiful day Sirius had ever experienced.

The _ irony of it all. _

Gorgeous.

Also, Lily smelt like vanilla and was very soft. Sirius felt very safe and welcome in her embrace.

Also boobs. Awesome.

And Jamesie in the back—dying of jealousy. Hilarious.

Sirius snuggled in deeper.

* * *

The wild woodland creature was increasingly agitated and poor, darling Snuffles was terrified. Lily had to do something about it.

“Shoo,” she tried again.

“Great thinking, Lils.”

“Thanks.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I know.” Lily hugged the poor trembling puppy. “Now, help.”

* * *

Sev hated the stupid supercilious mutt.

And yes. The mutt was supercilious. 

It was only nice to the girls. It was particularly obsessed with Lily (because, of course).

Actually, now that Sev thought about it, it was particularly obsessed with Remus, as well… kind of like… _ hmmmm... _

Well, whatever.

The stupid dog. Sev hated it. He scowled. 

It fucking bared its teeth back.

“Sev,” commanded Lily. “Get the deer to fuck off.”

“Ha,” laughed Sev, cheerlessly, “No.”

And then Lily kicked Sev towards the deer so fuck his life.

“Gratitude is dead.” Sev told the deer.

“Shoo.” Lily called, from the back.

* * *

Today was the fateful day that James was going to kill Sirius.

“Go on, then.” said Snape. “Fuck off.”

James Potter did not on the best of days take very well to being told to fuck off. Today was not, in fact, the best of days. It was, indeed, a moderately shit day. James just barely stopped himself from stomping Snape’s snivelly features off his face.

Snape scowled at James, and without breaking eye-contact, said over his shoulder, “I can’t believe you’re making me deal with this thing after I spent the last, what, decade or two, listening to you mope over Potty.”

James stopped stomping.

Perhaps today wasn’t such a shit day, after all.

* * *

“Unfair.” Lily responded, cradling Snuffles. “The Best Friend Code—”

“Is _ utter _bullshit.”

Lily sent the back of Sev’s head a knowing look. “The Only Friend Code—”

“You bitch—_ fuck—” _the deer made a move to kill Sev.

Lily sent the deer an appreciative look. Maybe it wasn’t so creepy, after all. “Sorry, what was that you said, Sevvy-poo?”

Sev very rapidly avoided an approaching hoof and ducked behind Lily’s back. “Help me, you fucking bitch, or I will go up to Potty and tell him that you have a cru—_ my ribs, my fucking ribs, you animal—” _

“His glasses,” Lily grit, retracting her offending finger from Sev's ribs, “make him look fit. Shut up. It’s hardly a—a—crumble.”

_ “You animal.” _Sev wheezed.

“Oh, walk it off.”

* * *

Sirius had never been more entertained. 

James Potter, The King of All Fit Nerds, indeed.

* * *

Sev sneered at Lily. “You’ve got a crush on him and you don’t want to admit it—_ if you elbow me I will never speak to you till the end of time, itself—” _Lily scowled miserably up at Sev. “I don’t understand why you don’t just—what the fuck is wrong with that thing?” 

Sev stared incredulously at the suddenly prancing deer. What the fuck was wrong with it?

_ Ah, _ he realised , _ rabies. _

* * *

** _JAMES KNEW IT. HE KNEW IT, HE KNEW IT, HE KNEW IT. LILY EVANS FANCIED HIM AND HE KNEW IT._ **

** _TODAY WAS A BRILLIANT DAY._ **

* * *

Remus wished that he was hallucinating. He knew very clearly, of course, that he was not. All the same, he wished rather fervently that the scene before him (Sirius plastered to Lily’s chest, while Sev hid behind her, throwing _ Incarcerous _spells at a hyper, dancing James) was a hallucination.

_ Reality, _ thought Remus, _ is harsh. And ignorance is a bliss I’ll never procure. _

And so Remus watched the scene unfold from behind the silvery cover of the invisibility cloak, wondering what the fuck he was meant to do.

“Wait,” whispered Peter, frowning, “Does Lily have a crush on James?”

Remus sighed.

* * *

“It’s got rabies.” whispered Sev.

“No shit.” Lily muttered back. The deer was fucking insane.

It was running from one end of the corridor to the next—and wow, it just did a back-flip off a wall. Lily wondered where on earth it had learnt to do that.

“What should we do?” she asked Sev.

Sev looked back at her, deadpan. “Tap dance.”

“Thanks, Sev.”

“This is all your fault.”

“If I agree, will you stop moping?”

“No.” 

“Right.” Lily pushed Snuffles behind her. “Take care of Snuffles. I’m going to try stunning the rabid deer.”

* * *

James wanted to tell her that she’d had him stunned from their very first encounter. He would have, as well, but then she actually shot a _ stupefy _at him, and his attentions were otherwise occupied.

_ Lily Evans, what a girl. _

* * *

Remus should have stepped in at the first stupefy. Probably.

It was just—

It was kind of funny, honestly.

And also, they—The Idiot Duo—deserved it.

It was _ pure, _familial obligation (and also the growing suspicious that Peter would genuinely die from excessive trembling) that made Remus step out of the cover of the invisibility cloak.

* * *

Sirius was endlessly, endlessly, _ endlessly _amused.

‘Much ado about nothing,’ as Hope was so wont to say.

But also, just within all the amusement, and within all the happiness for James (because _ finally, the idiot got it!) _there was this—bitterness. An innate sort of jealousy that materialised at the sight of happiness. 

_ Why can’t I have that? _

Like the tang of acid at the back of Sirius’s tongue when he saw Euphemia hug James. The simple happiness of it all.

_ Why don’t I deserve that? _

Such things, such easy affections, just—they just _ happened _to James. Things just worked out for him. People just loved him.

_ What does he have that I don’t? _

And just glancing at the stupid git, it was glaringly obvious. James Potter had a heart of gold that attracted everyone around him. Sirius was ready to bet the entire Black fortune that James had never harboured such subconscious malice and jealousy towards anyone, much less his best friend.

It was in shame and fear that Sirius ignored this bitter aftertaste and pushed it to the back of his mind—where everything complicated went to go. But still, the thought lingered in the periphery—upon observing the chaos, and just glimpsing the happy ending that was written in their fates (Lily and James, a house with a real chimney, a dog, a child)—_ Why can’t I deserve love? _

_ Because I am, and always will be, inherently unlovable. What kind of child isn’t loved by their own parents? _

And amongst all that, amongst the strange dichotomy of the happy chaos and Sirius’s internal whirlpool of fuck-all, there he was—_ the thing I can’t have. The thing that will never feel for me what I feel for it. Not in the same way, and never forever. Nothing lasts forever, and certainly never love. _

“Hi.” said Remus Lupin, sheepishly.

* * *

“Remus?” Lily turned her head around. “What’re you doing here?”

“The deer’s got rabies,” Sev said, “Let Lils handle it.”

“Ahahaha,” Remus laughed, awkwardly. “About that.”

“Where’s Snuffles?” Lily remembered, forgetting the rabid deer and scanning around Sev. “Oh, shit—_ Snuffles!” _

“He’s with me,” Remus called, “I’ve got him.”

“Oh, thank god,” Lily felt herself deflate as she observed Remus scratch behind Snuffles’s ear. “We need to call McGonagall.”

“Ahahaha,” Remus laughed, awkwardly. “She—knows, already.”

Lily stared at Remus.

“The fuck?” Sev asked. “She knows already?”

“The deer’s not rabid.” Remus explained, walking towards the _ definitely rabid deer. _“It’s—easily excitable. And—shy, around—uh—around pretty girls.”

“Was that a come on?”

“Ew, stop flirting with Lily.” Sev gagged.

“Never.” Remus grinned back. “Anyway, the deer—it—gets kind of—well—nervous, I guess. It’s not rabid.” Remus continued to move towards the _ definitely rabid deer. _“It’s not rabid, Lily, put your wand down.”

Lily lowered her wand slowly. “How the fuck did it get inside?”

“It’s complicated.” Remus shrugged. “Hogwarts.”

_ Right. Hogwarts. _She shrugged and pocketed her wand. “Fair enough.” 

Sev eyed Remus suspiciously. “What’re you doing out here so late?”

“Looking for Snuffles, and, uh… Prongs—the deer.” Remus turned towards the deer. “Calm the fuck down please, Prongs.”

“Prongs.” said Sev.

“Prongs.” agreed Remus, making finger antlers. “Because he’s got baby prongs on his head.”

Lily squinted her eyes at the deer to make out the small baby antler mounds on its head. “Where’d it come from?”

“I—McGonagall’s in charge of him—them, along with Snuffles.” Remus shrugged helplessly and put a hand on Prongs’s neck.

“Right.” Sev narrowed his eyes. “Prongs.”

“Prongs.” Remus repeated.

“What is with you and dirty animals?”

Remus smiled a little. “The whole werewolf thing, I guess.”

* * *

James collapsed on his bed. “Lily Evans wants some of this.”

“You owe me your firstborn child.” Remus returned, his eye-bags particularly pronounced.

“Lily Evans.” said James. “Wants me.”

“Fuck’s sake.” Remus muttered, turning away. He made eye-contact with Sirius, “You owe me your firstborn child, as well.”

_ Oh, my tantalean punishment, take it all. _

“But you never turned hay into gold, Rumplestiltskin,” Sirius said, instead.

“I saved your arse. Your firstborn child is mine.”

There was a sex joke in there somewhere that Sirius didn’t have the emotional energy to deal with right now.

“Lily Evans has a huge crush on me because I am the King of all Fit Nerds.” James breathed, staring at the ceiling in fascination.

“Is he never going to stop?” Peter whispered.

“James.” Sirius called.

James made eye-contact with him. “Snuffles.”

_ Speaking of, _Sirius turned to scowl at Remus. “Why does James get Prongs and I get Snuffles.”

Remus grinned over his shoulder _ ( ugh.) _ “Because you’re a ball of sunshine and sparkles.” (double_-ugh.)_

“Well,” Sirius turned away, “James is a narcissistic wanker but you didn’t name him ‘dickshit,’ did you?”

“There are so many things wrong with your argument, I’m not even going to try.”

“I like the name Prongs,” said Peter.

“Lily Evans,” whispered James, “is in love with my sexy arse.”

“I still think ‘dickshit,’ would’ve been more accurate.” Sirius said.

“Sirius, you can be Blacky,” said Pete, “because you’re black. Wait—no, I mean—your fur. And your name—”

“No.” said Sirius. “I refuse.”

“I like Snuffles.” said Remus.

“I’d rather die, Romelio.”

“Remus, you can be Wolfy!” exclaimed Peter, “Because you’re—”

“A werewolf, awesome deduction, Pete.” Sirius finished. “You can be Wormtail, because your tail looks like a worm.”

“Wormtail, Snuffles, and Prongs.” said Remus, pulling the covers over him.

“And Romelio.” Sirius added.

“I thought I was Wolfy.”

“Lads.” called James.

““Shut up, James.”” Sirius and Remus said, collectively.

“Lily Evans loves me.” called James.

“James should’ve been Moony instead of Prongs.” muttered Sirius.

“Prongs thinks that Snuffles’s the one who should’ve been Moony.” James called.

“Love your selective hearing, Jamesie.”

“I _ know, _isn’t it just brill?”

“Romelio thinks that Wormtail should’ve been Moony,” Remus chimed.

“Oh, yeah,” Sirius remembered. “You’re moony over that—what’s her name?”

“Mary,” Peter muttered, shyly. 

“Mary!” James exclaimed. “Love is in the air!”

“James, oh my god,” said Sirius, laughingly. “You’re not in love with Lily.”

“I am very much so in love with Lily, how dare you, Snuffles.”

“James, no.” laughed Sirius. “You’re fourteen.” 

“Take your judgement elsewhere, Snuffles.” James called. “Or should I say Moony.”

_ Wanker. _ “Moony over _ you, _Jamesie.”

“You know it, babe.” 

“Hey, guys—maybe Romelio should be Moony,” said Peter, “Because, you know, the moon.”

“Brilliant connection, Pete,” Sirius called.

Remus laughed, “I like Moony.”

“The least moony of us all is Moony.” said James. “I like it.”

“Moony the rabid werewolf,” Remus laughed again, sleep slurred, “I like it.”

“Moony the gentle nerd.” Sirius yawned. He was starting to like it too. _ Imagine being moony over Moony. _

“Moony, Wormtail, Prongs and Snuffles,” said James. “Sounds fun.”

“No, no, no.” disapproved Sirius. “Snuffles is lame.”

“Moony, Wormtail, Prongs and Blackie?” Peter offered.

** _“No.” _ **

“Padfoot.” yawned Remus.

“Because he’s got little pads on his foot! Aww, widdle Snuffles!” James cooed.

“Shut up, dickshit.”

“That’s Mr Prongs to you, Snuffles.”

“That’s Mr Padfoot to you, Prongs.”

“Padfoot, Prongs, Wormtail and Moony,” said Peter.

“Padfoot, Prongs, Wormtail and Moony.” agreed James.

Sirius turned his head to observe the slow rise and fall of Remus’s chest silhouette.

_ Goodnight, Moony. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of year 3 (what a year LOL)
> 
> I hope you all have been well! And sorry once again for the super long delay... RIP


End file.
